


Profendement Endormi

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M, Magical Accidents, Magical Artifacts, Written long before HBP and DH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war rages on after the fall of Voldemort. There is a secret key that might be the end of the Death Eater resistance, and Draco is sent to find it. Little does he know that Ginny will show him more than he bargained for....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

****

Don't part with your illusions.   
When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live.  
\- Mark Twain  


 

Hogwarts had been reduced to rubble in the Final Battle. There were tales of great heroism of that day, something told around campfires and around children's beds late at night as a reward for getting to sleep on time. The fearsome Lord Voldemort had tumbled down the front steps in several pieces, sliced apart by the Sword of Gryffindor. It currently hung in the new Ministry of Magic, a symbol of the new regime. They meant to cut a swath through darkness, and make the Wizarding World a fair place for Pureblood and Muggleborn alike.

But there were always those that would protest change. There were always dissidents, even in utopia. People didn't always view perfection in the same way, especially a perfection that was in the making. The Death Eaters that hadn't been rounded up took charge of the lost voices and gave them direction. The terror of the Great Wizarding War continued despite legislation, despite the valiant efforts of the Aurors and Ministry agents. No one knew who the Death Eaters were now, since the Dark Mark had disappeared once Voldemort died for the final time.

Dumbledore had died during the confusion following the Final Battle and the new administration's induction to the Ministry. "Salvation will be found at Hogwarts," he had said, even though he had known full well that Hogwarts' collapse was beyond repair. He had told everyone within earshot, and had collapsed into death gracefully.

There was a long list of missing persons held at the ministry. Every once in a while, Order of the Phoenix members would try to find them. Months after the Final Battle, they continued the fruitless searches. The missing persons were likely dead, never to be found again. For the sake of good faith, they kept up the searches. One of the Weasley twins was missing; the remaining twin had been rendered mute as a result. The youngest Weasley child was also missing, having last been seen a month before the Final Battle. The Weasleys made very loud and very public appeals for their missing children to be returned to them, but no one stepped forward with information. Molly Weasley was a sobbing wreck, and became the symbol of every missing person's family. Even so, not a single one was found.

About six months after the Final Battle, Harry Potter had visited the ruins of Hogwarts Castle early in the morning. He combed through the wreckage for hours, Disapparating just before lunch.

Word spread amongst the underground, and it reached Draco Malfoy's ears by dinner. In the wake of the War's end, the Malfoy name had been tarnished almost beyond repair. Only his very notable selfishness had let Draco loose. He had been too concerned with his own welfare and family fortune to fight, of course. His father was missing as well, presumed dead in the Final Battle, but no one had wished him luck in finding Lucius Malfoy. Draco hadn't expected the Aurors to care, and was too busy lying through his teeth to save his fortune.

"Very inventive," Lucius had murmured from his study afterward. "But perhaps I should depart for one of our Unplottable hideaways until they feel I am well and truly gone. A few months, perhaps, and I can return to lead the rabble."

"Of course," Draco had said, and helped his father to pack.

That had been nearly four months ago. Lucius was due to return tonight, but Draco would have to send someone to meet him at the Apparition point. It simply had to be done. It was one thing for the Weasleys and others like them to search Hogwarts, hoping to find their missing children, hoping to find whatever clue that Dumbledore had left for them. But if Potter was searching the grounds... something important had to be there, something that Potter desperately wanted to find. Draco simply had to find it first.

Dressed in black from head to toe, Draco swept onto the Hogwarts grounds. He poked around the rubble aimlessly, wondering what in the world Potter would have wanted. A key was supposed to be found. But to find a key in the rubble... Even a Seeker would have problems with a quest like that. Draco took a deep breath. The air still smelled like smoke and fire, even six months after the Final Battle. He closed his eyes and let the scent of destruction fill his lungs; somewhere within the ruins was something that wasn't destroyed. He could find it before Potter, if he just let go of his senses, let them stretch out and feel something...

There. To his right, hiding between the large fallen stones, inside a cubbyhole that was too easily overlooked if only the eyes were used.

Draco kept his eyes shut and walked unerringly over the fallen stones. He felt his black cloak swirl around him, but he managed not to trip over it. He had to keep his eyes shut, or he would never find the key. His eyes would trick him, wouldn't show him what he needed to see. He felt his way along the larger stones and only opened his eyes when he was at the cubbyhole between the stones.

A pair of eyes stared back at him.

Startled, Draco fell backward onto the stones. He scrabbled backward a bit, then leaned forward to peer at the eyes more closely. They were definitely human brown eyes, full of fear and wariness. Draco pulled a few stones away from the tiny opening and squeezed his head and shoulders through it. The eyes fell backward after widening in fear.

Draco Malfoy had just found Ginny Weasley.

Without thinking, he reached inside the crevice and caught hold of Ginny's face between his hands. He managed to Apparate back to Malfoy Manor even though he normally needed his wand to do so. At the time, he took it for granted that he would go home when he wished to go; his entire life he had been catered to, so why not now?

They landed at the Apparition point on Manor grounds in a graceless heap. Draco quickly got to his feet, but Ginny remained sprawled on the ground. Impatiently, Draco hauled her up to her feet. He heard her hiss of pain, and took a closer look at her in the moonlight. There were scratches and bruises on her face and hands. Her clothes were torn and ragged, as if she had been living in the wild for the past seven months. But something didn't quite fit, something about her appearance was a bit off. Draco shook his head and began to walk into the Manor. He would decide what to do about her soon enough. At the very least, he could add some cachet to the Malfoy name by returning the lost Weasley.

Draco wound up dragging her to his bedroom. The girl couldn't even stand on her own, and he didn't have any spare bedrooms set up for a guest. If he was going to play the benevolent Malfoy, she had to be given a proper place to stay.

"Draco!"

With a sigh, Draco turned around. He could hear his father's footsteps down the hall; one of the House Elves must have told him that Draco had returned.

Lucius strode into the bedroom. He looked absolutely regal; the self-imposed exile had done the older man some good. Lucius stopped short at the sight of Ginny. "What is that doing in here?" he demanded.

Draco's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Is there something wrong?" Lucius looked shocked at the sight of the Weasley girl. "I've found the lost girl. I was going to clean her up and return her to her family." Draco could feel Ginny tremble against his arm, and her fingers pressed tightly into his flesh. Something was troubling her, but he didn't know what it was.

"That's not a good idea," Lucius said, his voice smooth. "The brat's family might think you were the one that took her."

Draco got the feeling that there was something else in his motives. "Nonsense, Father. I will be doing a good deed. The Malfoy name will improve, and we can do business again."

"You went looking for Dumbledore's Key, didn't you?" Lucius replied after a moment. His eyes narrowed. "She might know where it is. Let me take care of it, I'll find out from her where it is."

The fingers around Draco's arm tightened even more painfully. "I'll do it, Father," Draco said, voice light. "She let me rescue her, after all. She trusts me. It would be best if I were to talk to her, find out what had happened. Build on that trust."

Lucius' jaw tightened fractionally. "You've been left on your own too long, Draco."

"I'm the legal head of the Malfoy family, Father," Draco reminded him.

Lucius left the room, not even touching the door to Draco's bedroom. Only then did Ginny's fingers loosen from his arm, and her trembling stopped. He turned to look at the ragged and bruised girl. "All right, then, Weasley. Now that I've just done a stupid thing, you'd better tell me what that was all about."

She looked up at him with wide and frightened eyes. Then after a moment, she dropped her head down to her chest.

"There aren't any spy spells in here," Draco said, exasperated. He watched as Ginny shook her head, her knotted hair flying. Some dirt fell to the floor. He winced at the sight of it, and realized he was covered in dirt as well. "Fine. Let's get ourselves cleaned up first, and then we'll have to talk.

"Scourgify!"

Ginny stood there, having not even winced as the powerful cleaning spell hit her body. It took off a layer of grit that seemed to have embedded itself into her torn clothing. There was still filth caked into her skin, and Draco sighed. He began to shout some of the other cleaning charms he remembered, not sure if any of them would help. "Ablutio! Purgo! Defaeco! Delavo! Elimo! Limpidus! Purus!"

Some dirt and stone chips disappeared with each spell. There were leaves in her hair, dirt worked into her skin and the clothing seemed to wear a little bit thinner. Even so, grime remained. Spells didn't always get objects clean, and Draco was beginning to see why so many different charms existed. "I'm going to have to wash you," Draco muttered. "Come along, we'll get this started."

Ginny allowed herself to be pulled along to Draco's private bathroom. She trailed dirt and stone chips. He ignored it; it would be easy enough to clean the carpets afterward. That dirt wasn't ground in, after all.

She fought him when he tried to remove her clothing. In doing so, though, Draco got a closer look at the rips. It looked as though someone had ripped her blouse apart then tied it back together. Her skirt's waistband was torn slightly, and there were rips in her cloak. It was amazing to think that she could have survived seven months in her ripped school uniform, yet somehow she had. She was filthy, of course, and seemed terrified of taking her clothes off in front of him. Draco sighed and cast Semper Scourgify on the bath water he had run for her. "Fine, then. Get in the tub with your clothes on."

Ginny was still pressed against the tile walls of the bathroom, eyeing the doorway. Her hands were fisted over her chest, as if she would throw a punch if he got too close to her.

"Look, Weasley. I can't very well return you to your parents looking like that."

She flinched, and looked at him. Her lips were trembling, and she desperately shook her head. She parted her lips as if about to speak, then shut them tight. She edged away from Draco slightly, toward the door.

Draco rushed forward and grabbed Ginny. She howled and fought him like a wild thing, and Draco just barely managed to drag her into the tub. He was completely soaked, and rolled his eyes at Ginny's thrashing arms. She had no idea how expensive his ruined outfit was. It was likely more than she ever collected in allowance for a year. "See? It's just water. Now wash that dirt off of your face."

Slowly, Ginny looked up at Draco. She searched his eyes for a moment, then nodded stiffly. She pushed herself away from him and huddled in a corner of the overlarge tub. She scrubbed at her face with her hands, but only succeeded in turning the dirt into mud. "Oh, get over here, Weasley, there's soap."

She moved over to Draco hesitantly, then reached out for the soap in his hand. Draco let her pluck it out of his hand, but he grabbed her wrist when she tried to shy away from him. "Let me look at that," he demanded, pulling her closer. He let her hold the soap in her other hand, then pulled away the blouse and cloak sleeves. Coarse rope burns circled her wrist, and it looked raw and ready to bleed. "Is your other wrist like that?" Ginny nodded, biting her lip, then held out her other hand. Draco pulled back the sleeves and saw the same rope burns. He swore softly, then took the soap out of her hands. "Let me wash your face."

Surprisingly, Ginny obediently sat in the water next to Draco. He lathered up a washcloth with the soap then gently began to scrub at Ginny's cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into the cloth, letting him scrub her forehead. Draco found her trust to be oddly comforting, as though something right had happened since the Final Battle after all.

Draco took another washcloth and used it to wipe away the soap. The other washcloth was tossed aside in the bath, and he watched as the dirt disappeared. The Semper Scourgify was a useful spell, one had used to cheat his way out of a detention with Filch. The dirt would disappear as soon as it touched the charmed water, and it was already working its magic over Ginny. He could see the tears more clearly, and where the clothes had been hastily knotted back together. Draco began to unknot a few of them, and Ginny pushed his hands away. "Come on, I need to get your neck," he said, irritated.

"I'll do it myself," Ginny said. Draco was suddenly aware it was her first words to him, and that her voice sounded too raw and raspy. Even with her wailing before, her voice should not have sounded as if she had screamed herself hoarse.

"What the hell happened to you out there?" Draco asked suddenly.

Without warning, Ginny grasped either side of Draco's face in her hands. Her gaze was intense, and Draco found himself seeing out of her eyes.

He was too drawn and pale, and his eyes were too wide. Then suddenly it felt as if he were falling. He opened his eyes and saw the Weasley twins beside him. "I saw a light in the forest," one of them said. "You think it's a patrol?"

"Not one of ours," Draco said in Ginny's voice. "Those lights aren't the same. They're deeper in the forest, like someone's trying to hide them."

"We should tell someone," the other twin murmured. "So they know where we've gone when we check it out."

"I'll leave a note. I don't know where everyone else went to patrol tonight."

"Still celebrating our win over those Slytherin bastards in the Hogsmeade attack, most likely," the first twin said with a grin.

"As we should be, if we didn't get the short straws," his brother added.

"We'll just go quickly and come right back," Ginny said, finishing the note with a flourish. She set it down on the Gryffindor common room, which was their meeting place with the other Order members patrolling Hogwarts. "Come on."

And then they were in the forest. Ginny must have been in the lead, since Draco could hear larger people moving through the underbrush, but Ginny couldn't see them. She was following the lights, her wand in hand. She wasn't moving quickly, but she suddenly tripped over something that sent her tumbling down an incline. The twins shouted her name, and she fetched up beneath a rowan tree. "Don't move!" one of the twins cried.

Ginny pushed her hair out of her face as she stood up. She had dropped her wand, and bent over to pick it up. Suddenly there were all sorts of bright lights circling her, and Ginny saw that they looked almost like pixies. They glowed with an eerie kind of light, and Ginny didn't think she had ever seen their like before. "We have a new heart!" someone had said from the crowd of pixies around her. Ginny tried to move forward, but her feet were stuck fast to the forest floor. She looked down in a panic, and saw a crystalline mass anchoring her feet to the ground, with tendrils creeping up her legs.

One of the twins was approaching. "Get back!" Ginny had screamed, seeing the swarm of glowing pixies turn toward the twin with a venomous look. He had a look of terror on his face, and then he began to howl in pain as the pixies all pointed at him. His face seemed to elongate, and his eye sockets appeared to be drooping. When the twin reached out for Ginny, his skin seemed to sag downward due to gravity.

He was melting.

The other twin was screaming as the melting twin turned to him. The melting twin trudged up the incline, dripping pieces of himself across the forest floor. He circled his twin, melting, puddling around his feet.

The crystal tendrils by that time closed over Ginny's face, and the last thing she heard was the agonized scream as vocal cords shredded.

The next thing Ginny knew, the crystal chrysalis was shattering. It was dark, and Ginny at first thought it was the same night. But she looked around and realized that it was no longer spring, but late summer. Her wand was missing, probably taken by an animal thinking it was an ordinary stick of wood. The pixies were nowhere to be seen, and she gingerly stepped around the shattered pieces of crystal. Her legs felt almost too weak, but she plodded her way back to the castle. She had to tell someone, someone had to know what had happened...

But Hogwarts was in ruins. It was nothing but collapsed stone and ashes from burnt out fires. She stared at the ruins in shock, then edged closer. She had to feel the stones beneath her fingers, she had to know that it was real and not an illusion. So much had happened while she was encased in crystal. The seasons had changed, and the castle had fallen.

Ginny didn't know how long she spent there, poking through the rubble, trying to find some sense of the familiar. She had no way to get home anymore, no wand and no Hogwarts. It was too unbelievable, too strange. It couldn't be true.

Ginny found herself being spun around by a tall man with pale blonde hair and haughty features. Her gut tightened in fear – the diary! The Ministry! – and she tried to shrug out of his grip and run. But he had his wand, and she had long since lost hers. She was soon bound to four different pieces of stone. "Where is it, you filthy Mudblood-loving child?" he shouted at her. "Where is the key?!"

She didn't know what he was talking about, but it only enraged him more. He ripped open her blouse, tore at her skirt and robes. He sank his teeth into her breasts, he ripped at her from the inside out with his cock. Ginny was screaming, the stones digging into her back, the ropes chafing her wrists as she struggled. It hurt so much, and Draco could feel every violation in his own body. He and Ginny were one and the same, and he felt the humiliation and pain as her skin was pinched and twisted, as the voice above her laughed at her pain. Her head was slammed down into the stones beneath her; afterward she couldn't see more than pale hands at her throat and face. She continued to struggle, even though she knew it was a lost cause. She pulled at the ropes, she felt her skin shred and begin to bleed. It helped, and soon her wrists slid through the ropes that kept her bound. She struck at her attacker's head and raked at his face with her broken nails. As he howled, she pushed him off and struck at his chest with a stone. She pulled herself loose from the other ropes and then took off for the forest at a run. She tied her blouse back together as well as she could, but her vision was blurred with tears and blood.

She plunged into the forest, not seeing where she was going. As long as he didn't follow her, as long as he didn't try to continue his rape...

She found herself back at the rowan tree, surrounded by crystal shards. Now that it was later in the evening, the glowing pixies were back. They flitted about her head, agitated. "Our heart was released too soon, she wasn't ready yet... Back, our heart, back... you have strength left yet, we need more...."

Ginny didn't fight as the crystal shards formed around her body again. She felt broken, and maybe if she could forget everything this time around....

But this time, when the crystal fell away, the pixies were there. "She still lives!" one of them cried. "She is still whole!"

Some of them flew off in agitation, but others remained behind. "She is not like the other forest creatures," an older looking one murmured. It seemed almost pleased. "She has more magic now than before. How can this be?"

"Cast her out! Before we are polluted! Get another heart!"

And so Ginny found herself stumbling along in the forest, her wounds still raw and bleeding. She had nowhere else to go but the ruined castle, and found a hiding place amongst the stones. There was no sign of life anywhere on the grounds, and Ginny found herself foraging in the forest outskirts or the remnants of the greenhouse. She rarely found enough to fill her belly, but she knew better than to exhaust the paltry stores. She collected as much as she could in her torn cloak at night, and kept it in her cubbyhole. She rarely wandered out during the day, afraid she would be seen. There were various holes and tunnels within the broken stone, and she explored those by day. She didn't always notice if she was cut or bruised by the stones, since it was merely an exercise in wasting time. Her mind turned inward on itself, and she didn't really notice how many days she did this. It had to be at least a week, maybe two.

When she heard the footsteps during the morning, she burrowed deep in the stony tunnels she had explored. She didn't want to take any chances. If someone was looking for her specifically, they would call her name, after all. She could recognize voices, she would know which ones to respond to.

But there were no voices. Just the footsteps and the sound of moving stone. Ginny moved down deeper, climbing down dangerous shafts of broken stone. She knew her way around, and stayed down low until the shifting shadows disappeared. She eventually climbed her way back up in the late afternoon, and sat in her cubbyhole, looking out over what used to be the pitch. At nightfall, she raided the greenhouse for more edible roots. She had been in the middle of eating when there had been more footsteps. She had frozen still at the sound, but then the sounds stopped as well. She almost thought she was imagining things when they started up again, swift and sure. Before she knew it, there was a face at the entrance to her cubbyhole, and the stones were pulled away. Hands were placed on her face, and she wished she were far away from the castle ruins.

Ginny's hands fell away from Draco's head. "Now do you understand?" she rasped.

His mouth had fallen open, and he gingerly touched her cheek. "How did you do that? How could you make me see what you saw?"

"I don't know."

"Come on, I won't do that to you. And you need to get cleaned up."

"But..."

Draco delicately pulled the tattered robes from her shoulders and threw it outside of the tub. He undid the knots in the ruined blouse, making sure he didn't touch her skin any longer than necessary. "You can pull off the skirt," he said. As she gingerly did so, Draco made short work of his own clothes.

"Don't... Get back," Ginny warned as Draco approached her.

"You need help, Weasley."

"No. Not from you."

"Yes, from me. You can barely get the skirt off, let alone your knickers."

Ginny stilled. "I'm not taking them off."

"Don't be daft, you have to. You're taking a bath, remember?"

She was shaking her head. "Not with you, not after..."

Draco caught Ginny about the waist as she was trying to lift herself out of the tub. "Just wait, Weasley." He wrapped his left arm around her waist and used his right hand to slip the torn fabric from her waist. She was soon bared, and he had to gulp slightly. Ginny had a nicely rounded body, and it was now pressed tightly against his. "Your hair," he said desperately, pulling her back against the tub. "We need to wash your hair."

Ginny made a squeak of protest, but Draco pulled her back and guided her onto her back. He kept his left arm around her shoulders, helping her balance. Her hair hung in clumps, and Draco used the washcloth to drag water over her hair. It was so vividly red, so unlike his own fair hair. He dragged his fingers through the knotted mass, loosening them, then reached behind him for the shampoo. Her breath was ragged and sharp, and Draco could feel her fear. He moved gently but deliberately, squeezing some shampoo into her hair and lathering gently with his right hand. "You can help, you know," he said. "I know you're not an invalid."

Her right arm was caught between their bodies, so she lifted her left arm and began to lather the shampoo in her hair. Draco lathered the other half of her head, massaging her scalp. She calmed a bit, her shoulder tension easing slightly. "See? Not too bad, right?" Draco gently brought her lower into the water, letting it rinse out her hair. The Scourgify was doing its work, and the debris was disappearing.

Ginny was rather beautiful, Draco realized. He had never really gotten past the fact that she was a Weasley while they were at school. Her hair was that vibrant red, which suddenly didn't seem so wickedly orange. She had a piercing gaze, full breasts, wide hips and a pert bottom. If she hadn't been a Weasley, Draco would have tried to seduce her while they were at school. He brushed her hair from her face and smiled slightly at her. She blinked at him in surprise, but didn't tense, at least.

"I guess you're not," Ginny murmured. Her voice sounded less raw that way. "But I never really knew you at school. You were always so horrible to everyone."

"It was all childish things," Draco said, voice pitched low. His fingers trailed along the edge of her jaw. "And I am not really like my father."

Her lips trembled, but she said nothing. Her eyes skidded past him, up to the marble ceiling tiles. Draco took the opportunity to drag his hand down to cup her breast and rub his thumb gently over the peaked nipple. Her gaze snapped to his face, and her left hand caught his wrist. "Don't," she said sharply.

"I won't hurt you," Draco murmured, leaning down. He shifted position so that he could nibble on her earlobe, running his tongue around the outer shell of her ear. "I'll be gentle. I'll make you forget how bad he hurt you."

"No, stop. I don't want you to."

Draco's hand moved from her breast and then trailed down her belly. His fingertips grazed the pubic hair between her legs. It was just a shade darker than the hair on her head, still a vibrant and deep red. He pulled her earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently. "Let me show you how it can really be."

"I want to go home," Ginny sobbed suddenly, turning her head. Draco was suddenly looking her in the eye, and found himself drawn into her gaze. "But I can't, not yet, not until I can explain what happened out there."

Draco's fingers curled around her mons, the tips gently touching the outer labia. "I'll help you," Draco murmured. He kissed the tip of her nose in an odd moment of protectiveness. "I'll do whatever I can."

Ginny's breath came out in a hiss as his fingers began to probe her folds. "Please... don't, Draco. Don't. Please..."

"I won't hurt you," Draco murmured, moving his head so that he could kiss her lips. "I'll make you come so hard you'll forget there was ever any pain."

"I can't forget," Ginny moaned.

Draco met her eyes. "And now neither can I. But maybe for a little while..."

With a soft sob, Ginny parted her legs. Draco felt them tremble around his wrist, and took his time exploring her. Draco leaned down and kissed her on the lips. It was gentle, just the barest of pressures, and Ginny opened her mouth in a sigh. Draco's tongue dipped down inside her mouth, tasting her tongue. She tasted bitter, like dark green herbs. Her kiss was hesitant, unsure of herself. Draco deepened the kiss further as his fingers moved between her legs. He pushed a finger inside her cunt, finding it beginning to grow moist. He moved his finger back and forth gently, then pulled it out to find her clit. Ginny was making soft mewling noises, something that sounded more like desire than pain. He broke the kiss and shifted position so that he could suckle a breast. Ginny clutched at Draco's shoulder with her right arm as her left held on to the side of the tub for balance.

Draco heard her gasps of pleasure as if from a distance. His fingers circled her clit slowly, gently, beginning to set a rhythm. His tongue laved her nipple, back and forth, then in slow circles. He sucked gently, his tongue firmly over her skin. He slowly kissed his way up to her jaw, then back up to her ear. Ginny could hardly breathe. His fingers moved in a slow rhythm against her clit, and he took her earlobe into his mouth, sucking it. Ginny's breath caught as his fingers moved back and forth, gently, gently, teasingly. "You like it, don't you?" Draco asked, his breath tickling the side of her neck. He pulled her gently to the side of the tub and let her lean against the sloped side. He shifted position slightly so that he had better access to her bared breasts. He played with them, suckling and nibbling at her flesh, making her moan. Trailing his lips along her skin, he felt her twitch restlessly beneath his mouth.

"Oh!" Ginny cried. His fingers had brushed over her clit slightly harder, and the pleasure had sent shockwaves through her. "There, don't stop, don't..."

"Oh, now you don't want me to stop," Draco said with a grin. "Make up your mind, Weasley," he teased.

 

"Ginny. Oh! Oh, my name.... is Ginny..."

He rather liked the way her breath fractured on her words as he touched her. Her clit was erect within her slick folds, and Draco reached backward with his toes to pull the plug on the water. He suddenly wanted to know how she tasted, how she would feel clenching around his cock in orgasm. Draco slid his fingers inside of her and rubbed at her clit with his thumb. He moved slowly, deliberately, as the water drained out of the tub.

"Ginny, I want to fuck you now," Draco said, a growl against her stomach.

Her breath caught, and she looked down at him. She could see his hand between her legs, his lips against her belly. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen, and she could feel the wetness between her legs grow even wetter. "Yes," she whimpered. "Yes."

"Come for me," Draco murmured against her belly, his fingers moving faster inside of her slick cunt. "Come for me, Ginny."

"Oh Merlin, that feels so good," Ginny moaned, her head thrown back against the side of the tub. She could feel Draco's tongue dip into her belly button, then lick a trail straight down to her sensitive clit. Then his lips closed around the nub, tugging gently. Ginny let out a keening cry, and Draco could feel her inner muscles clench at his fingers. Draco kept licking at her clit, then dipped his tongue down to taste her slit. She whimpered, and the sound was like music to his ears. Her legs flopped down against the bottom of the tub, and Ginny looked exhausted. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her nipples were rosy and peaked.

Draco pulled his fingers out of her, then stepped out of the tub. He gently reached inside of it and lifted her up into his arms. After two weeks of near starvation, Ginny was rail thin and feather light. He easily carried her to his bed and laid her down on the coverlet. The door to his bedroom was sealed shut with the strongest locking charm Draco knew, and then he settled himself down next to her.

Ginny traced the outline of his jaw. "Thank you. You were right."

"Of course I am." Draco waited a moment. "About what?"

"You're not your father."

Draco nuzzled Ginny's neck. "Of course I'm not."

"And I do feel better."

He barked out his laughter. "A good bath solves everything."

"That wasn't just a bath," Ginny said briskly, turning onto her side. Her wrists looked raw still, and Draco moved to get his wand. She caught his arm. "I'll be fine."

"Let me just heal those."

"I'll be okay."

Draco let her pull him down to the bed, and they lay there on their sides, looking at each other. He was still hard, having never actually pushed inside of her. Her eyes skipped down his chest to his belly and cock. "Um..." she began, uncertain.

"Touch it," he said, sounding braver than he felt. "You'll feel better."

"Will it hurt you?"

"Only if you don't touch it," Draco muttered.

She reached out hesitantly and touched the shaft of his cock. Her touch was light, and Draco bit back a groan. She leaned forward slightly, pressing her lips to his. She was gentle, almost hesitant, her lips soft as she licked his lower lip. Draco pushed into her kiss, then reached up to stroke the side of her breast. Her grip around his cock tightened for a brief moment as she gasped into his mouth, then she continued stroking his cock. His long fingers slid down into the soft tangle of red curls, finding her clit and beginning to stroke it. Ginny felt the moisture at the tip and broke their kiss to look down. "Is that right?"

"Merlin, yes," Draco moaned. "Don't stop."

"You feel so soft... how could this have hurt me?"

"I didn't do it..." Draco muttered. "I wouldn't. Gods, I can't... keep up like that and I can't stop. I'll come in your hand."

"What...?"

Draco suddenly pushed her hand away and turned her onto her back. He knelt between her legs and lifted them around his waist as he pushed into her wet depths. She gasped in surprise and felt a sudden rush of pleasure as something inside of her was hit. "Oh, oh my..."

"It gets better," Draco promised.

"Better?" Ginny asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"It does. I promise."

Then Draco thrust harder, faster, deeper. He was gasping, unable to breathe. She was tight around him, warm and wet, and it was the most intense feeling ever. He could feel Ginny clench tight around him on his deeper thrusts, heard her breath hitch. "Oh, I'm going to come, I can't hold on, I'm going to come..."

He spilled inside of her, and slowed down his thrusts. Her eyes were wide, focused on his face. "Oh. Oh. That felt good."

Draco pulled out and curled up around her. "Next time will be better."

"Next time?"

"Yeah. I'm not letting you go so quick."

Ginny should have felt disturbed. But instead, she felt a warm glow deep inside, rather like belonging to something special. She held Draco close and breathed in the scent of him.


	2. Chapter 2

** Evil being the root of mystery, pain is the root of knowledge.  
\- Simone Weil  
**

 

She knew she was dreaming. In her dream, she was with Fred and George again in the Forbidden Forest. She knew the pixies were there, she knew that the fire lights were low, too low to be actual fires. She knew what would come, the crystalline structure keeping her trapped for months at a time. She could still hear the pixies' voices. "Back, our heart, back... you have strength left yet, we need more...."

George was reaching for her, melting into puddles, face dripping like candle wax. Fred was beyond the reach of the pixies, screaming and slowly going mad. She was trapped, feet fixed to the ground, crystal working its way into her skin.

The strands of crystal lay over her face. She was dreaming, she had to be. The crystal seemed to be whispering to her, speaking in a low tone. She didn't understand the language, but the crystal was speaking to her, teaching her. It drained out her magic and life energy at night, renewed it during the day. The crystal murmured into her mind, pressed against her skin in a tight caress. _I tell you what you need to know, I shape you into the key. And when the time is right, you will wake to greatness and you will turn the lock and begin to reshape the world._

Ginny shot up in bed, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. The memory was too painful to hold onto, and the effort to push it away had woken her. Draco was lying beside her, still breathing gently in sleep. His arm was around her waist, holding her close.

She eased herself back down into bed. "Nightmare," she murmured.

"Sleep," Draco murmured against her shoulder. "Sleep now, talk later."

She hadn't even known he was awake. "All right."

Ginny let herself fall into the realm of dreams again.

_He lies in the heart of the garden and if you want him you'll have to find him and you'll be tested as you've never been tested before in your life, _the crystal's voice whispered. _Trust me in this, little one. We are reshaping you into something able to walk the roads to the garden, you will be the Heart of the firefae._

Firefae? So that's what those shining pixies were. Ginny had wondered what they were, what the crystal had been for. She had a feeling that the memories were starting to come back, and she would soon know why she had been locked away for so long. The younger firefae had been frightened of her, by what they couldn't understand. The older firefae had looked on her with pleasure. She remembered them smiling at her now, she remembered them peeling away the last strands of crystal from her face.

Why had it shattered that first time?

_Trust me, little fallen angel, you'll break out your wings before you're through, or else you'll fall to earth and shatter like pieces of glass._

Ginny remembered the shattered pieces of crystal scattered about the forest floor. They had looked like glass, reflecting the starlight above. They had been tinged with red, reflecting her hair back at her. Funny, the things you remember when you're in shock. Ginny found it easier to remember the shapes and colors of the crystal shards than the expression on her brother's face as he melted into nothingness, or the expression on her other brother's face as he slowly went mad as a result. It was safer to remember broken pieces of crystal, safer to remember the flying spheres of fire as they hissed at her. It was safer to remember she was their Heart now, whatever that meant, and she had a purpose now. The crystal had been talking to her, had been trying to teach her. The crystal had been a chrysalis, and she had merely been sleeping. She had been sleeping deeply for months, and soon she would fully wake to her new self and know what she was meant to do.

_You'll have to find yourself in the heart of the garden, you'll have to find the seeds of the garden. And when you know the truth of the garden, only then will you find all that you really seek. You'll know every answer, can unlock every door._

Ready to go?

The path was small and thin and dirt, no ingrowth at all. It was thus easy to follow it, even in the lingering greenish light that was dimming as time went on.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ginny realized that the visual images were really her mind's way of contemplating the truths the crystal wanted to present to her. The dirt path felt like stone beneath her bare feet, and a soft mist swirled along the ground.

She had been released early. She hadn't realized it at first, but now it was really starting to get to her. She had been released early, but that had been a mistake. The firefae had panicked when she hadn't been there; they had pushed her back to be encased in the crystal once again. But something had happened to make it shatter. Had there been a spell of some sort? Had someone tried to look for her with magic?

She stopped at the fork in the path. Which way was she going to go? Would she choose the right path or the left? The right path and the left looked exactly the same, no differences between them at all. She closed her eyes and tried to let her newfound senses direct her. She hadn't known that touching Draco's face would allow him to see her memories; she had just done it and it happened. She hadn't consciously known that he had wanted to go to Malfoy Manor, she had just wanted to get away from the ruins of the castle.

Her magic was wild and powerful now, some strange thing she would have to rein in. It would take time.

But this key that everyone was talking about. Lucius had accused her of knowing where the key was. When she had refused knowledge of it...

Ginny's mind shied away; best not to think of that. Pain lay down that line of memories, and it had been enough to revolt even Draco.

Draco. What the hell had happened between them? Ginny didn't even know.

_Ginevra. The path._

Left.

The firefae were here, carving out the centers of old trees, creating homes and cities within their twisted husks. But too many trees were dying, more than the firefae or dryads could use or sustain. There hadn't been Forest Heart in centuries, and so it was dying. One of the elders had approached Dumbledore when he first became Headmaster. The Hogwarts school and Hogsmeade village were the only places near enough to the forest that the firefae could appeal to. They needed help, they couldn't sustain the forest on their own.

"I know the Forest," Dumbledore had said with a familiar twinkle in his eyes. "I often roamed there as a student, when I should have been in bed."

"They called us the will o' the wisp," the elder firefae said. "We call ourselves firefae, for we are more like the ancient fae than any other creature. Our lands have grown small, so we have grown small to fit into them. But our lands are dying, we have no Forest Heart to keep it strong and alive."

Dumbledore had leaned forward with interest. "Forest Heart? What is it? I have never heard of such a thing."

"Sometimes it's a creature of the forest, bound to protect it from what would do harm. But we have not found a worthy creature in centuries."

"But surely the centaurs..."

"Wise as they are, they do not wish to alter their place. The natural state of things interest them, they wish to study it. They follow the stars, not the land. They would find a new place to live if our forest dies out completely."

"But you cannot?"

"We are firefae. We belong here. This is our home, had been so since the beginning of time, and we will not abandon it."

"What do you need in a Forest Heart?"

The elder had smiled, and the firelight surrounding it flickered in laughter. "You cannot be our Forest Heart, however much you would wish to be. You have gotten older, more cynical, you haven't heart enough to spare for us."

Dumbledore frowned. "But I will protect you all, as best as I can."

The elder nodded, bowing his head. "But should we ever find our heart... I cannot explain how it works. It is difficult in your tongue. I will know the heart when I see it, and our kind will need to take it and reshape it into the heart."

"You're warning me," Dumbledore said suddenly, comprehension dawning on his face. "In case it's a student."

"We will not harm the heart!" the elder cried sharply. Its lights danced in agitation. "But we need it! The forest depends on it, the strength and soul of another creature! Something that will tie it to this realm, that will keep its magic alive! We know it must exist, else the forest would have died completely. But it sleeps, our heart. It sleeps deeply, and we must wake it to its fuller purpose."

Dumbledore sighed. "And that is....?"

"The forest, of course," the elder said simply. But they both understood that there was more to it than that, something the elder was not willing to share.

"All right, then," Dumbledore murmured. "If your Forest Heart is a student, I will not interfere. But at least give me the student's wand, so I can tell their family not to worry about their safety."

The elder nodded solemnly. "Of course. It's not our wish to harm anyone. Our heart shall hold a higher purpose. For the forest is not just this forest. There is a great garden in the world, and the forest is merely the heart of the garden. All paths lead here, all paths depart."

Dumbledore suddenly straightened up in his chair. "I understand. And I will help you and the others in the forest."

"My thanks," the elder said, then flew back into the forest.

_Ginevra, the path,_ the crystal's voice whispered.

Her mother as a young child, playing in a forest, butterflies touching her fingertips. A dryad was watching over her, making sure she would be all right. Some gnomelike figures were sitting next to Molly, talking in a low-pitched voice that Ginny couldn't hear. Molly laughed and held out her hands, letting the butterflies go. "They're so pretty, though, can't I play with them forever? Why should I grow up and lose them?"

Grandmother Prewett was there, digging in the gardens and carefully setting aside a store for the dryad as well. "Molly, my dear, be careful where you step. You never know who lives there beneath your feet."

Molly had never let them kill garden gnomes, nuisances though they were.

The gnome snatched a raw carrot and chewed on it thoughtfully. He looked up at the dryad. "Not this one, though. Not touched enough by magic."

Molly screwed up her face in thought. "But I've magic. Mum told me so."

"How old are you, Molly-girl?" the dryad asked, her voice like rustling leaves.

"Five!"

The dryad nodded. "Such a big girl you are now. Would you like to live in the forest and care for us?"

"But... Mum. I'd miss my mum and dad." Molly's lips trembled. "But I like playing with you, too, Willow."

The dryad ducked her head. "It is very pleasant, little Molly. But someday you'll get too big to play with me, and you'll have other children to play with. And you won't come back and help us in the forest."

"There's a forest near the school. Mum told me."

"I know that forest," Willow murmured. "My sister lives there. They need someone, too."

"Maybe it can be me!" Molly said, clapping her hands. "I can help! I'm a big girl now, I can help in the gardens."

Willow smiled sadly at Molly, although Molly couldn't recognize the smile for what it was. "Of course, Molly. Now how about we make a nice deep burrow for the gnomes....?"

"Oh yes. Burrows are nice comfy things..."

_Ginevra, the path._

Bill was standing at an altar deep in the heart of an Egyptian tomb, holding a ruby necklace in one hand and a golden chalice in the other. He was murmuring something in an old language that Ginny couldn't understand, and the shadows across the walls seemed to flicker with life. The still arms began to dance, and one of the figures began to move.

The woman, beautiful and with large kohl eyes, stood from her boat and moved to step from the wall. "Who calls on me?"

"William Weasley, eldest son of the Weasley clan. I call forth Isis, she who found Osiris, she who knows the hidden heart of things."

The woman stepped from the wall and soon stood before Bill on the opposite side of the altar. She smiled at him warmly. "That, I do. Speak, William Weasley."

"My sister has gone missing. Ginevra Molly Weasley."

Isis cocked her head to the side. "What do you ask of me?"

"Please..." Bill's voice cracked. "Is she dead? Has she passed into the realm of Osiris? Did she receive judgment?"

Isis's face softened, and she reached across the space of the altar. She stopped just short of touching Bill's sleeve. "William Weasley, your sister has not passed into my husband's realm. She has not been weighed against the Feather."

Bill's shoulders sagged with relief. "My thanks, my lady Isis." His smile was heartbreaking, and he blinked back tears. "May I ask where she is?"

Isis withdrew her hand. Her eyes began to glow red, and the ruby on the chain began to glow with an inner fire. "You have given me the True name of your sister. And I may name a price for such knowledge, but I have kindness in my heart. I am sister and mother both, and I know the pain of loss. So I tell you this in truth: your sister is safe. She lies in the center of the forest's heart. She is not in its physical heart, but in its spiritual one. The forest needs a champion, and she has been chosen."

The expression on Bill's face was one of bafflement. "I don't understand."

There was the beginnings of panic on Isis's face. "I've broken her through. I've brought her back to your realm before her time."

Bill's eyes widened. "Then we can find her. We can get Ginny back."

Isis held up her hand. "Don't! Not before her time. I have already altered much, I may have ruined all."

"But..."

"Your sister will be returned to you. You will not have the search I had, and you will not feel any of the sorrow I have had to feel. This is my promise, William Weasley." She smiled warmly at him. "Keep to the old ways, William Weasley. You can learn much, and then you too would understand the necessity of things."

_Ginevra, the path._

She followed the memory path laid out before her, and again there was a choice that was no choice. She kept her feet to the same path she was on, and began walking again. She was in a simple white cotton shift, her feet bare. She could feel the edges of the shift swirling around her legs, and knew she was bare beneath it. It was the way of all the old tales, the virgin on her quest for knowledge. But Ginny knew that she was no virgin, and this quest for knowledge hadn't been her choice. It was only chance that had led her down this path, and at the moment it felt more like a burden or curse.

She found a clearing in the forest, directly on the path. She sat down in the center of it, crossing her legs and folding the shift primly over her legs. She waited, and then she could hear the crystal's voice in her mind, beginning to speak to her.

_Yes, my heart. You are what your mother could not be, you have what we need. And now here you are. You have found the center of the garden. You took the most direct path, the straight path through. You did not wander from the path, you did not try to sidestep your destiny as the Forest Heart._

"But what is it?" Ginny asked.

_Let me show you._

The knowledge burst forth into her mind, and Ginny began to scream. It _hurt,_ there was so much of it and it felt as though her skull was about to explode.

Draco was shaking her awake. "Ginny? Ginny, are you all right?"

Her eyes opened, and they were the dark endless green of a forest's heart. Draco fell back in shock. She had perfectly ordinary brown eyes. He remembered them distinctly. She had stared at him quite often in the few hours they were together, and he remembered that they were brown, not green. She had brown eyes and red hair and light freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose as if an artist had shaken a brush over her face. She was of middle height with lush curves he wanted to sink into. Her voice was still raw, but it would heal into her true tones soon enough, Draco was sure.

"Ginevra is learning her place. Patience, young one. She will return to you in due time."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, voice rising in sheer panic. "What have you done with her? What's going on?"

Ginny smiled, a slow curve of her lips that would have been erotic at a different time and place. "Young Malfoy, do you grow to care for her? Did our heart take you in as well?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You were searching for a key," Ginny said, her voice low and husky. "You were searching for the key of your salvation. Well, she is our heart and your key. Let her learn what this means, young Malfoy. Then she can return things to the way they should be."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "But..."

Her hand reached up and caressed his face. "It's all right. She was merely sleeping."

"But you're _hurting_ her. She was screaming."

"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Let her take all of it. Don't wake her yet. She will wake on her own."

"She was screaming," Draco repeated. He was dimly aware of sounding lost and afraid, and didn't know why it should be so.

"Let her explain to you when she wakes. But for now, let her sleep. Comfort her as you can, but let her sleep for now."

Draco found himself caressing Ginny's cheek. "Will she be all right?"

"Of course. Sleep now, young one. You have a place in this as well."

Confused, Draco only nodded. "But..."

"She'll explain everything to you. Just sleep. Sleep. When you wake up, it will all become clear."

Draco waited until Ginny's eyes closed before curling up around her. He told himself he wouldn't sleep, he would just watch over her and make sure that she was okay. The next thing he knew, his eyes were opening from a snooze. Ginny was still sleeping, curled up in his arms. She looked peaceful, and showed no signs of being caught up in a nightmare. Draco traced the curve of her jaw, then her lips.

_Did our heart take you in as well?_

He didn't know what it was that had crept inside of Ginny's body as she slept. It probably had something to do with the strange crystal the forest pixies had put her into. Draco involuntarily remembered her brothers, one melting and one screaming into oblivion. The fae didn't care about mortal lives; too ephemeral, humans were often no more than tools for the fae to use as they saw fit. But what did they want with her? What was so special about her that they had to take her in such a manner? And what had they done?

_She is our heart and your key._

Dumbledore had claimed that the key to Wizarding salvation was at Hogwarts. Had he known what the pixies had done to Ginny? Draco hadn't thought the old man was capable of using his own people as pawns, but apparently he was. It didn't make him feel any better. He had managed to sidestep the Death Eater Inquisition, but somehow he was beginning to feel as though it had all been a setup. Something much larger was in the works, something that no one had ever talked about before. Perhaps his father and the other Death Eaters had never known, perhaps it was something even Voldemort had never realized. Voldemort had been so concerned with his own immortality and taking over the Wizarding World. But what if there had been more out there? No one ever really gave the magical creatures much thought. But what if they were truly a force to be reckoned with?

_She is our heart and your key._

What had the pixies done?

Draco traced the outline of her jaw again gently, hoping she would wake, and bent down to kiss her slack lips. What was she dreaming of? Was she going to cry again? Would it hurt terribly? She had sounded as if it had been painful so far.

He thought of the haunting image of her brothers as the crystal had closed over her face. He didn't know how he could see her thoughts, feel what she felt, know exactly what had happened all those months ago when she first went missing. But he had, and he couldn't get the memory of it out of his mind. It was _his_ brother melting into nothingness before him. It was _his_ brother screaming himself into madness. It was _his_ body being abused so thoroughly by his own father, no matter that it would never truly happen. Draco could feel it still, the press of fingers and teeth, the bite of rope.

It had happened before his father's self-imposed exile. Had he truly been afraid of the Aurors finding him four months ago? Did he think Ginny had escaped and would prove that he was still very much alive? It had to be why he had been so concerned with being the one to question her, why he had insisted that Draco had to have been searching for the elusive key hiding at Hogwarts. Lucius had known what he had done, and had wanted to cover his tracks without having to explain himself. Ginny was already missing, after all. No one would notice if she disappeared permanently.

But why do it at all? Draco didn't quite understand it. Or rather, he didn't want to understand it. He looked down at Ginny's sleeping form, knowing he could never forgive his father's betrayal of his mother. Narcissa Malfoy was still very much alive, if not well.

His mother was a shell of herself, a silent wraith ensconced securely in her suite at Malfoy Manor. She had fallen ill when Lucius had first been sent to Azkaban, and had barely survived it. What little will she had left at that time had been used up to try and have him broken out of the prison. Her health had failed rapidly at that time despite potions and spells from Healers. Draco had spent thousands of galleons to try and restore his mother, and she was nearly catatonic still. Lucius had never even looked in on his wife after he had been whisked back to the Manor in the dead of night, and had taken a separate set of rooms rather than see the frail husk that used to be Narcissa Malfoy. Draco still visited her as often as he could, chatting with her as if she would reply. The house elves cared for her with all of their devoted fervor, and she still looked as beautiful as ever.

_She wouldn't have broken if you looked in on her, Father,_ Draco had said at the time. _She's waiting for you to come to her, to show her you're still alive._

Of course she is, Lucius had said. _And when I'm ready, I will. But I can't show her what Azkaban had done to me._ Lucius was stoop shouldered, gray and lined. He had aged a decade in the month he had been imprisoned. _I would think that perhaps it might kill her to see me like this, rather than how she remembers me. It might be kinder to keep separate, to not let her see the truth. There is much work to be done for our Lord, and I cannot have her worrying about me further. Leave her the dreams of me, Draco. It's better that way._

And he had obeyed his father, of course. He had mentioned to his mother that Lucius was free, but in hiding. He was being sheltered by loyal Death Eaters, and they continued in their struggle to aid Voldemort. Lucius thought of Narcissa every day, and he sent her his love. His mother had brightened somewhat, but she was still a pale shadow of her former self. Draco had held her hand, telling her of the wonderful news, knowing all the while his father was three suites down the hall.

_I helped him lie to her. I helped him do it, I believed in it. I let him lie to me, I let him use me like any other pawn, _Draco thought bitterly. He twirled a lock of red hair around his finger, wondering what Ginny would say of the situation, what she would say and how she would react to meeting his mother.

That gave him pause. This was too fast, too strange. He had just met the girl and fucked her, now he was thinking of introducing her to Narcissa as if he was planning to spend the rest of his life with her.

_Would it be so terrible if I did?_ Draco thought idly. He rubbed the hair between his fingertips, thinking. Would it be so bad? She was so responsive to his touch, and would likely prove an even match for whatever he wanted to try. In the bedroom at least, he was likely to never be bored. She was Pureblood, though Draco had the sneaking suspicion that it mattered less and less now.

Ultimately, he didn't know. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. He was the legal head of the Malfoy family, and wielded tremendous financial power in the Wizarding World. His advice was sought after, since his recommendations were always sound. After taking control of the family finances in his sixth year, Draco had quickly become an expert. Now his money made even more money, and he didn't have to work at it anymore. It was merely a mental exercise to invest. The interest from his various Gringotts accounts was more than enough for him to live off of extravagantly. He could buy whatever he wanted, whether it be golden plates and candlesticks engraved with a diamond M, estates in other countries or entire islands. Money had ceased to mean anything once the numbers grew too large. What do you do when your income is over ten million galleons annually? How could you possibly spend it all? And what would you do next?

Draco ultimately couldn't sit idle. He couldn't follow others' orders, or he might have joined the Auror training program for a change of pace. He was just as unsuited to a boring Ministry desk job, and there weren't too many other outlets in the wizarding world.

_But if I help Ginny with this key thing... if I help her bring salvation to the Wizarding World... That might be something I can do. I can out-Potter the great Harry Potter, I can be good enough for everyone. And it would keep me busy..._

He couldn't sleep now, and it seemed almost creepy to do anything else to Ginny as she slept. He summoned a book from across the room that he had been reading the day before. It was a treatise on ancient Greek magic, something he had found himself drawn to. Other cultures had different spells, different beliefs regarding the origins of magic and how it worked. Without anything of substance to do, Draco had spent the better part of the past four months reading on magic, philosophy and history. This particular book had been in his father's library, tucked away on a bottom shelf in the corner of the room. It had apparently never been opened before, if the dust on it had been any indication. A lot of the books in the library had been purchased for display only; his father had spent most of his time in the hidden Dark Arts library he had built in the basement, hidden behind a false wall. It had been missed in the various Ministry raids, and Draco had casually browsed those tomes as well. He was sure it was something the Ministry fools would love to get their hands on, but most of them had been handed down from previous generations. The Malfoy family had dabbled in Dark Arts for centuries, and the books were priceless from a historical standpoint as well as from a magical one.

Draco didn't know how long he spent reading. He was slouched against the pillows, Ginny's head cradled in his lap. One hand held the book open, the other lazily played with her hair. It was peaceful, and settled his riotous nerves. He felt almost normal for the first time in months, almost purposeful.

After a short eternity, Ginny stirred in her sleep and stretched out lazily. "Mmm..."

Draco put the book aside on his night stand and tugged on a lock of red hair. "Sleep well, Ginny?" he asked.

Her eyes opened, and they were brown flecked with green. "Yes, I did."

"But..." Draco's mouth opened, and she shut it with a finger pressed against his lips.

"I have so much to tell you, Draco, and there isn't enough time for it all. I have so much to do... Will you really help me, like you promised?"

"Of course," Draco said, almost annoyed. "I always keep my promises."

She smiled, a sensuous curve of her mouth. "And I keep mine, too."

Draco traced the sexy little smile. "What are you on about?"

"I'll tell you everything. But I want to prove something to myself first."

"What?"

"That yesterday wasn't a fluke."

"But what...?"

She propped herself up on an elbow and leaned in close to kiss him on the mouth. She opened her mouth under his and let her tongue trace his lips before diving in to touch his tongue. Draco's hand closed almost painfully on her shoulder, pulling her up slightly so he could better counter her tongue with his. Ginny found herself growing warm all over, and could feel her skin almost pucker with anticipation. She was still gloriously naked, after all, and so was he.

Draco broke the kiss first. "Are you mad?"

"No," Ginny said, shaking her head. She moved into a kneeling position. "But if we're tied together, I want it to be because we want to be, not because we're forced into it."

"You silly bint. You think I'll shag anything in a skirt?" The words were out of Draco's mouth before he could stop them, and he regretted them instantly.

But Ginny laughed. "I would hope not. I don't do that sort of thing normally."

Draco pulled her closer. "And what sort of thing do you do normally?"

"I was just finishing up my first year in the Auror's program, Draco. Every night if I wasn't on patrol, I studied. Alone."

"Stupid Gryffindors, not realizing what they had," Draco growled, pulling her in for a searing kiss. It was all lips and teeth and tongue, frustration and desire and lust.

"You think you know?" Ginny murmured when Draco moved to kiss her jaw.

"I know when I have something precious. I know the worth of valuable things," he whispered into her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth and gently tugged. His tongue flicked out, tracing the edge of her earlobe, then he moved down to her neck. She was moaning, leaning into his touch. It gratified him to feel her arms thrown back, her back arched, bright red hair spilling down around them. Her arms moved down, circling his back, keeping him pressed tightly against her.

"And I know... when I have something worthy," Ginny murmured, her hands trailing down his back. One hand circled to his front, her touch light and gentle. She traced the lines of his stomach, the junction of his thighs. Then her hand closed around his burgeoning cock in a gentle fist. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sensations and could hear a growl deep in his throat. "I know what I want, Draco."

"Good," he growled against her throat. One of his hands was fisted in her hair. "And it better be me."

She moved her hand over his cock in reply, stroking gently. Dear Merlin, she had only learned to do that the night before, hadn't she? Draco changed position, moving down a little bit, making Ginny adjust her grip. He suckled her breast, his teeth nipping and coaxing the nipple to its full peak. His tongue traveled from one breast to the other. One of his hands moved down to the junction of her thighs, and the hand around his cock tightened convulsively in response. She willed herself to relax, to keep up the rhythm of her motions. Her breath seemed harsh to her ears, and she shut her eyes. Draco's fingers moved around her clit, stroking gently. He could hear her breath come in gasps, could feel her hips begin to buck against his hand.

Ginny came, a startled cry escaping her lips. Her hand tightened around Draco's cock, then released. Her breathing was ragged, and she moved, kissing her way down his torso. "Let me try something," she said softly.

When Ginny's mouth closed over the head of Draco's cock, he was willing to let her try just about anything.

With her jaws stretched wide, she tried to take in as much as she could. That was a mistake, since she felt almost as though she were suffocating. Backing up a bit, Ginny took a bit less into her mouth, which made it a bit more comfortable. She ran her tongue along the length of Draco's cock, tasting the precome that was beginning to come out. She felt the ridges beneath the edge of the head, the slit at its very tip. At each touch, she could hear Draco make an incoherent moan. Mmm... That was very interesting. Smiling around his cock, Ginny began to bob up and down over him. The tip of his cock slid along her tongue toward the back of her throat, then into her cheeks, then in the hollow beneath her tongue. Draco was groaning, his hands tightening in her hair. At least he wasn't holding her still; Ginny didn't think she would have liked that.

"Uh... I'm.... I'm gonna come... I'm gonna...."

And then Draco came into Ginny's mouth. It hit the back of her throat, gagging her. Ginny had enough presence of mind to open up and let his cock slip out of her mouth before she coughed and spit into her hands.

Draco looked at Ginny's face and laughed. "Sorry. Should've given you more warning."

Ginny coughed and somehow still managed to look graceful. "Shame on you, taking advantage of me like that."

"Shall I clean you up?"

"If you please. I'm not done with you yet," Ginny said, smiling that sexy smile of hers.

A few well placed cleaning spells, and Draco pulled Ginny onto the bed lengthwise. "I don't think it was that bad," Draco said, stroking Ginny's cheek.

"No, not so bad. You taste funny, though."

Draco sat up. "What?"

"Not quite sweet," Ginny continued, laughing at his outraged expression.

Draco looked at her, dumbfounded, and she laughed harder. "That's not funny," he said, pouting. "You shouldn't laugh at me during sex. That's not nice."

"Oh, you have ego to spare," Ginny said with a grin, sitting up. She pushed him down onto his back and leaned over him at an angle.

"No I don't," Draco said, giving her a mock pout. "I think you need to make it up to me."

"Oh dear. You're so fragile," Ginny murmured, running a hand down his belly. "However will I make it up to you?"

"You're creative, you'll think of something."

Ginny grinned at him openly. "I'm sure I will."

She kissed her way along his ribs and belly, occasionally licking at his rising erection. She nibbled at the skin of his thighs, and sucked on his balls as an experiment. Draco seemed to be enjoying everything well enough, if the gasps were an indication. Ginny followed her mouth with her hand, trailing her fingers along Draco's skin. He reached out to touch her hip, so close to his shoulders as she was kissing his inner thigh. Draco reached around her leg to feel his way to her clit, and was greeted with a soft mewl.

"Only fair to return the favor."

"Since when were Malfoys fair?" Ginny teased.

"When they want to be," Draco said, answering her seriously. "When it matters."

"Ah," Ginny began. She had intended to say something witty, something that would make him laugh. Whatever she would have said was lost as a finger was thrust up inside her, making lazy circles inside her wetness. _"Oh!"_

"I like that sound," Draco murmured, feeling the exhaled breath along the inside of his thigh. It was so maddeningly close to his cock, he almost couldn't stand it. "Do it again," he murmured, circling around again.

"Not fair," Ginny whimpered. "You don't have the same bits for me to do that."

"But there's other things to do," Draco said, crooking his finger again. She tightened around his finger, and Draco felt his cock twitch in appreciation.

"Oh...." Ginny grinned, and shifted position slightly so she could easily take Draco into her mouth again. If she was careful and stopped before he came, there wouldn't be any more embarrassing choking.

"Mmm... I like this," Draco said, voice fracturing. He pulled at her hips, making her shift her balance. He made sure her knees were on either side of his shoulders and pulled her hips down enough so that he could lick at her clit.

Back and forth they moved, a sensuous dance of lips and tongue and teeth, hands and skin against skin. Ginny was making little soft sounds deep in her throat as Draco teased her clit mercilessly, and he could feel the hum vibrating along his shaft. He was moaning himself, disjointed groans. He couldn't remember ever having been vocal before; he had always had tight control over himself. It was like a dance, he decided. Her head bobbed down and he could feel everything she was trying. Pleasure flooded him. And he would reciprocate, make her hum so deliciously around him.

Ginny's fingers clenched around Draco's thighs, and suddenly she pulled her head up. His cock fell out of her mouth and landed wetly on his belly. "Oh," she moaned, muffling herself against his thigh. There was a long drawn-out groan as her entire body tightened. Draco licked her harder, squeezed her buttocks tightly, holding her in place. She came with a soft cry, sagging against him. She pressed a damp kiss to the skin of his thigh and sighed happily.

"Move, woman," Draco growled suddenly.

"Wha-at?" Ginny asked, confused. Her body felt limp, and she didn't even know if she could control her limbs anymore.

Draco pushed her gently, and she rolled to her side. He moved quickly, gracefully, grinning when he caught her stare. He pushed her onto her back then plunged deeply into her soft wetness. "You're _amazing," _he murmured in admiration. He'd never had someone like her before, willing to try new things, willing to pleasure him in return. He dimly remembered in sixth year begging Pansy Parkinson to suck his cock, and she had laughed at him.

_No, bad thoughts there. No thinking of Pansy now, not during this..._

Ginny was soft and tight and wet and warm, and her hands were on his chest. They roamed over his back, pulling him deeper inside. It was almost too good, almost too much for him to handle. Draco knew it wasn't going to last any longer, but couldn't stop himself from moving and couldn't stop himself and then he was coming inside of her, almost weeping from the force of it.

Draco collapsed on top of Ginny, and she folded her arms tightly around him. Draco was dimly aware of how disgusted he should have felt. Displays of emotion were unseemly. Her family was filled with Muggle-loving blood traitors. She was one of them, no different than any of them, and his father most likely wanted to kill her so she couldn't expose his secrets. If Draco had been more alert, he never would have defied his father, even for a heaven like this. But even though she was a Weasley, why did it feel so right? Draco couldn't imagine being anywhere else now, couldn't see anyone else touching him. He wanted her to meet his mother, he wanted her at his side when he put the Malfoy name back together. Something about her was just right, just the thing he had always needed, that last bit of comfort to make life special.

"Tell me everything," he murmured into her ear.

And then Ginny began to speak.


	3. Chapter 3

**Because there are empty spaces, we are able to use them.  
\- Lao-Tse  
**  


 

Lucius had never been the type to keep a journal. That was idiocy, he had always reasoned. Why keep proof of your thoughts, where others may find and read them? There was no need to do such a thing, when innermost thoughts could be dangerous weapons. If anything, the business with Tom Riddle's teenage diary had only driven home the point of the dangers of journals.

But in his self-imposed exile, he had been unaccountably lonely. For the first time in his life, he had been _alone,_ and _lonely_ in ways he had never thought he would ever have to learn. He brought it upon himself, he knew, but he had already been past the breaking point when he had seen her crawling amongst the stones.

She should have died. She should have served her purpose and died, resurrecting a Dark Lord Lucius would have been able to control. She would have been an acceptable sacrifice, a Pureblood, a seventh child, the only girl of a family renowned for its tendency toward male children. She was special, something worthy of drawing out the full power of the Dark Lord, something that had to be stopped before it blossomed. She would have been a beautiful sacrifice, a worthy choice, something pliant and malleable, traits that would have been conferred to the resurrected Dark Lord. Lucius would have been lauded for his choice, he would have cemented his place in Death Eater history. He would be hated by the rest of the fools for being placed so high, but it was something he would be able to live with. The girl didn't mean anything past her status as sacrifice, power draining out of her and into a better vessel. She would have been powerful had he not marked her for a different purpose.

He had felt it humming within her as he had violated her. Lucius hadn't meant to lose control that way. It was unbecoming of a Malfoy, but he had been picking over the stones for days, and he was quickly losing time. The key to the Light had to be found and destroyed. All the poisons and potions in the world hadn't made Dumbledore talk, and Lucius knew his time was running out. The cloaking spells were temporary, and those blasted Aurors would have found him. He had lost his temper, that was all. He hadn't meant to beat the girl to a bloody stupor, hadn't meant to violate her. Really. He hadn't meant to.

But she tasted like magic. She tasted like power.

And so he had run. Draco didn't suspect anything, Lucius was sure. Lucius had been calm and collected. He knew all the things to tell Draco, he had always known. The stories were really all too true, the factual base that made all lies palatable. Lucius had overstayed his welcome, others would come to invade the Manor and look for him. Of course it had gone over well. Of course his son would save his skin. Draco had known his duty, and had done well. He had lied unashamedly, taking the smallest grains of truth and spinning them into acceptable tales for the Aurors. Draco Malfoy was selfish, everyone knew that. He was pampered, he was the heir. The self-confidence and knowledge that the world was his due had saved him from the inquest. Of course the Dark Mark was an ugly little tattoo that Draco would never take. It would mar his skin, it was vulgar looking. He didn't care to abase himself before a wilted creature, it was too unseemly. He had his fortune to look after, he had better things to worry about than what Muggles and Mudbloods thought of him. He had _important work to do,_ and the Aurors were keeping him from it.

Draco was very inventive when he put his mind to it. Lucius had almost been proud.

"Very inventive," Lucius had murmured from his study afterward. He had been listening behind the portrait of his grandfather, and the Aurors would never have found him there. Locator spells never worked in his study. The very walls were magically built, and nothing could be found within them that didn't wish to be found. "But perhaps I should depart for one of our Unplottable hideaways until they feel I am well and truly gone. A few months, perhaps, and I can return to lead the rabble."

"Of course," Draco had said, dutiful son that he was. He had helped Lucius pack, choosing the proper attire and reading materials.

And yet, Lucius had been lonely, and alone. He had wished for company, and could do nothing but let his mind wander in circles. He hadn't meant to violate the girl. She had been looking for the key, she was malleable, she was soft and weak. She could have been turned to his purpose, she could have helped him. He hadn't meant to throttle her. Something had been out there, wandering amongst the stones, a power had been humming there. He just needed to find it. He needed to become the new Dark Lord. Was there something else he could have done? Was there something he had missed? There had to be a loophole, there had to be something out there at the castle, something the Aurors had overlooked. There had to be something that would let him lead where the Dark Lord had failed. The Death Eaters were useless, hiding among the shadows and yelling "Boo!" into the light.

They would fail, and Lucius knew it. They needed a strong hand to guide them, to raise them up to rule. He would be that hand, as soon as he found the Order's salvation and destroyed it.

He had kept a journal during his isolation. He had buckled after the first week, desperate for something to take his mind off the fact that there was no one to speak with, no one there but himself. He had never truly been alone before, there had always been _someone_ around, and even hiding in the Manor he had always known that he could speak to Narcissa if he wished, could sit with her and pretend that things were as they should be. But he was too proud, and would never let Narcissa see him as anything other than the best. Better she have her memories of him, tall and proud, unbroken. She deserved that much, and their heritages only demanded the best. He was bent, gray, lined; he was old, and Narcissa deserved something other than an old man at her side. If he had power, age would become distinguished, and Narcissa would understand. She understood power, not age. Age was something she attempted to eradicate with every potion, every spell, every makeup technique. Lucius knew she would scorn him for his visible age.

And truly, he would have done the same to her.

The diary Lucius kept was an old blank book he had found in the house. He hadn't been aware that blank books had been kept there, and he had found some unused quills and ink. Perhaps the house elves had supplied these things, sure that in his exile he would need them. A book to keep his thoughts, full of empty lines to write down his plans with. Perhaps the house elves knew him that well over the years of service to his family. Perhaps they knew.

But after a week of silence and loneliness, he had buckled. Succumbing to the need for some kind of companionship, Lucius took quill to paper.

Something broke in him as he wrote. Fragmented sentences, sharp words, regrets, hopes and ill-conceived visions poured onto the page. Faint traces of rage littered the pages, and there was the odd melancholia of increased age. He was feeling old and useless, sorry for himself, out of sorts; Lucius had never felt so _common_ before, so broken and bent. It was as though writing was purging his soul somehow, as though the book were drawing the pain out of him. It was if the very act of writing were cutting into himself, lancing the pains that ate at him. _This was why the ancients wrote, this was why I never wanted to before. It_ hurts, _I can't seem to stop but it_ hurts, _and Gods above, I don't know how to let go of it all. I don't know what it means to feel like this, I don't know what I need anymore._

And then the moments passed, the urges died, and he was still left alone in the silence.

_My shining knight,_ Narcissa had called him when he had courted her. _Will you be everything to me? Will you take the stars in the sky and pleat them into my hair?_

"Anything you wish," Lucius murmured into the silence, putting down the quill. "I will make you a queen, I will make the world worthy of you."

He didn't notice the text he had written being absorbed into the book.

Lucius shut the book and pushed it away. He needed to do something other than read, other than write, other than wallow in the grief of an age long gone.

Lucius found himself in the kitchens, surrounded by raw foodstuffs, pots, pans, knives and forks, cups and spoons, cutting boards and stirring utensils. It was a strange place to him, and he didn't know what these things were meant for. House elves did the cooking and the cleaning, the serving and the baking. House elves did everything quietly, magicking away the messes. He had never had to do anything for himself before.

He seized a knife from the block. The house elves still worked here, but they had scurried out as he had walked in. The house elves knew he preferred to see the fruits of their labors, and not the elves themselves.

Lucius drew the blade across his palm. It didn't hurt, the knife was so sharp. He watched in idle fascination as the blood welled up to the surface. It seemed so sluggish to him, slow and useless, falling away from him. When had he fallen so far from the heights? When had it all gone so wrong? When did he lose control?

Lucius felt the same exact way now, though he had reestablished himself at the Manor. Power here had slid away from him, life had passed him by. Narcissa was a wraith, Draco no longer caught under his spell.

And that girl was here, with his son. And if she told him...

No. Draco was a dutiful boy. He would do his duty once again. The girl wouldn't tell, Lucius was safe. Draco wouldn't turn from him, wouldn't destroy the Malfoy name over some Muggle-loving girl. Lucius was safe.

Lucius was safe. He had to be.

***

 

"Mother, this is Ginevra Weasley."

Narcissa looked up, face expectant. "Draco? Who's this? What's this all about?"

"This is the missing girl, remember? It was all over the Daily Prophet. I found her at Hogwarts."

Narcissa got up from her chair and approached Ginny. "Why is she wearing your cloak?"

"She had been caught up in the rubble, and her clothes were ruined," Draco said. "I was hoping you had something suitable that she could go home with."

Narcissa found herself touching Ginny's cheek rather tenderly. "Your poor mother, I felt so sorry for her. Even being a Weasley. To lose a child... I don't know what I would have done in her place if I ever lost Draco. You haven't seen her yet?"

Ginny was shaking her head. "I was all... scratched up and my clothes were torn. I couldn't go home like that. She'd fall apart."

Narcissa nodded. "Mothers always fear the worst in their children." She patted Ginny's shoulder and smiled slightly. "I could do her this much a favor."

"Should I stay?" Draco asked, voice gentle.

Narcissa looked at him sharply. It was the first such glance she had given him since his sixth year, and it made his heart stop. She suddenly seemed so alive, to have purpose again. Draco had missed her, had missed her voice and her animation. He hadn't realized just how ghostly she had become in his father's absence.

"Of course not, Draco! It's not seemly for you to be here. You can't help it if you found her in disarray, but we will be proper about it now that she's here."

Draco grinned at his mother, and then kissed her cheek warmly. "Of course. What was I thinking? I'll have a tray sent up so you can take your time getting ready. Do take care of her," Draco whispered to his mother. He eyed Ginny as she turned to look at Narcissa's suite more carefully. "She's had a lot of shocks recently."

Narcissa squeezed Draco's hand gently. "But of course," she murmured. "When have I ever not been gracious, even to those that didn't deserve it?"

Draco nodded with a smile. "Of course. You're always graceful. I'll go get that tray sent up."

Ginny waited until Draco left before turning to face his mother. When Draco had suggested Narcissa's help in obtaining clothes, Ginny hadn't thought past the fact that she wouldn't have to go to Diagon Alley or straight to the Burrow. For some reason, she still felt uncomfortable with the thought of seeing her mother, of having to explain the missing time, her brothers, and why Lucius had wanted...

"Was it terrible?" Narcissa asked gently.

Ginny looked up, startled, her face pale and her lips trembling. "What?"

"Were you kidnapped? Did you only just escape? It's what the Prophet has been saying all these months, that you were kidnapped to make a point."

"It was... something like that. The particulars are a little odd." Ginny found herself twisting the ends of Draco's cloak in her fingers. "I don't like thinking about it."

Narcissa found herself standing at full attention. There was something in the way Ginny was avoiding her eyes, something in how she didn't like even _thinking_ of her abduction, even to get justice...

Lucius.

Narcissa didn't know why her mind automatically snapped to her absent husband, but once it had, it was irreversible. Lucius certainly had motive, and had been so noticeably absent and silent to her. Had her knight tumbled so far and was ashamed of it? Narcissa could clearly see marks on the girl's wrists, ugly red welts. There was something familiar about them, something that Narcissa mentally shied away from. She could understand the girl's hesitation in going home; Ginny would have to relive how she received such welts, since her family would never let the perpetrator rest. She would have no peace, there would be no moving on, no finality.

Narcissa found her heart softening. She could afford to be generous, she could afford to be kind. The poor girl had likely not received any kindness in a long time, had never been pampered or made to feel precious. How could she? She was a Weasley, a girl at that, and the family had all those riotous boys and too few sickles to spare.

"Have you ever tried silk?" Narcissa found herself saying, moving to her wardrobe. It had been an age since she had taken interest in her surroundings, much less how she was dressed. The house elves had taken care of her, Draco had been absolutely devoted. Narcissa felt as though she had been sleeping for much too long, and had suddenly been woken.

"N-no," Ginny stammered. She brought the edges of the cloak even closer together, as though she could shrink inside it.

Narcissa pulled out a dress of jade green silk. "You're about as tall as I am, though you're a bit larger than than I. But the house elves are wonderful with their seamstressing charms, and they could probably alter this to suit you."

"Oh no, Mrs. Malfoy, I couldn't. It's too expensive for me to ever repay you."

Narcissa's jaw nearly dropped. "Repay? Whoever said anything about repay?"

Ginny flushed and looked at the floor. "I couldn't, anyway."

"My son asked me to take care of you. And so I shall. Take off that cloak, I want to see how this color looks on you."

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Ginny hedged. She backed up a step as Narcissa came closer. She had been so wanton and confident that morning, had been so serious when talking with Draco and explaining the situation. But that was Draco, and somehow things were different when she was with him. Somehow, she felt almost safe with him, comforted, as though something between them was exactly the same. She didn't feel different with him, didn't feel out of place.

Narcissa, even looking too thin and drawn, made her feel even more unkempt than she was. Ginny knew she was out of her depth, and she felt almost guilty for even being here. This was too new, this was something she didn't have a right to experience. While every fiber of her being had been raised with the idea that a Weasley was just as good as a Malfoy, she also knew that finery was beyond her reach. It wasn't her place, it wasn't where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be at the Burrow, in her pink girlish rooms, she was supposed to be young and innocent, or at least pretending to be for the sake of her parents. She should have finished her Auror program, fought the skirmishes after the war, been there with her brothers when they needed her. She shouldn't be marring the casual elegance of Narcissa's rooms, welts and scars on her skin.

"Nonsense," Narcissa said, reaching for the edge of the cloak. "I think such a dark green would look lovely against your hair and...."

Narcissa's voice trailed off as the cloak gave way. The girl was in her torn school uniform. She had been reported wearing it, of course, having been assigned to look after the school. But the condition it was in did nothing to hide anything. Narcissa could see the livid bruises, the raised welts and the thick scars across the pale freckled skin. She could see every last injustice done, and it suddenly made her feel ill.

"I'm sorry, I'd better leave," Ginny said, pulling the cloak shut. "This was a bad idea, I should probably go home to Mum, I don't know what I'll say, but I'll think of something, I need to get out of here, I'm sorry..."

_Lucius,_ Narcissa thought suddenly. The shape of the bruises looked too familiar for her taste, and she didn't have to wonder why her mind went into its odd directions. She had been a brilliant student once upon a time. Society had dampened her reasoning skills, but she still possessed them. She was still fairly intelligent.

Ginny looked as though she were ready to bolt, and Narcissa sighed. "I'm sorry for what he's done to you."

Startled, Ginny swung her eyes to Narcissa. "What?"

"Lucius. He's a hard man to get to know. But... he wasn't always that way. He wasn't always difficult or cruel. He was kinder once. And I'm sorry he thought you were a useful tool to get to the other side."

Ginny felt her breath hitch, and she suddenly launched herself at Narcissa. She sobbed, the way she hadn't been able to do since it happened, the way she hadn't felt comfortable doing so with Draco next to her. Oh, tears were one thing. Tears escaped easily. Tears were involuntary. It was the emotion that was so draining, the memories that were so overwhelming. She felt Narcissa's arms encircle her, and she sobbed all the harder. Her Mum should have been there, should have been the one to offer comfort. But Molly Weasley would have sobbed along with her, pledging Lucius' death, offering retribution as comfort. Narcissa merely held her, accepted the truth and didn't doubt it. Narcissa understood her reticence, her silence, her shame. Narcissa understood and didn't judge her as being any less for it.

Draco knocked on the door before opening it, and saw Ginny sobbing in his mother's arms. "Is everything all right here?"

"Of course," Narcissa said, voice chilly. "Do leave the tray and take care of things downstairs. It will take a little longer."

"Of course," Draco said, putting the tray down at the bedside table. "I'll be downstairs if you need me for anything."

Narcissa smiled at her son. "Silly boy, this is something I have to do. But thank you." She waited until Draco shut door, and gently pried Ginny away. "Now, why don't you tell me what happened to you?"

"B-but it... it's bad. And you wouldn't want to hear it."

"Ginevra." Narcissa saw the girl's startled look at her firm tone but didn't marvel over it. She had once had an iron will. It was just a matter of finding it again. "Tell me. Trust me, nothing will come as a surprise anymore."

So Ginny did. She left out the part of the crystal chrysalis, the firefae and the missing time. She left out her brothers. She only told of Lucius' rape, of the pain and self-rage for allowing herself to get caught, for not fighting back harder.

Narcissa patted Ginny's hand almost absently during the tale. "You're leaving out a lot, I can tell. And yet, it does sound like him. It does. It doesn't surprise me in the least. I've seen marks like those before, on a girl in the village. Some dark haired Muggle girl he didn't think anyone would miss. It was a few years before he went to that prison, maybe Draco's second year. Those same marks, and he left her chained in the basement to starve to death afterward. I found the girl, I gave her food to eat. I gave her clothes and some jewels to sell, and I told her to run far away and never come back."

"Then why do you stay? Why do you cover for him? Why give approval?"

Narcissa's lips thinned and she stood. "He was a fine man. He was worthy. And if he repents his mistakes, he will be again."

"He _won't_ repent, he thinks he's right."

Narcissa's hand tightened around Ginny's shoulder almost painfully. "He was a fine man. He was a knight. He had been wonderful once. Lucius was under so much strain, it wasn't right for him to be treated so."

Ginny's lips tightened in anger, and her eyes sparked. "He was wrong for what he did."

Ginny could feel Narcissa's fingernails digging into the skin of her shoulder. "He will repent, Ginevra. He's just a knight errant. He will see the way home soon enough. I have to have everything ready for him when he does. He deserves something wonderful, he's worked so hard to try and make things right, he's tried to do right by all of us. You don't understand, you're too young and you've never had to fear that your very livelihood was at stake. You don't know what it was like when we first met, you don't know how good he can be."

Something flashed like fire in Ginny's eyes. Narcissa couldn't breathe. Somewhere, in the books deep in the study's library, told of things like this. She had read them once, long ago, before Lucius had banned her from the library, from the darkest of books. It hadn't been prophecy, not precisely, but a retelling of the old tales, the promises made between the worlds, that the sleeper would wake to fire...

If Ginny was that sleeper, Narcissa had to give Lucius another chance to greatness.

Narcissa sighed. "He was my knight once. If he could be again..." She smiled almost sadly at Ginny and touched her face. "My son is like him sometimes. How he used to be. You see it, don't you? I saw how he looked at you, how you looked at him. I wish I could say I knew what was happening now, but I haven't seen Lucius in years. I haven't spoken with him, haven't looked on his face. I don't know what he's like now. He was just once, but he was also ruthless for what he believed in. He believed we were safer apart, and I believe that, too. They will take us apart, those Muggles. They will study us to find the source of magic, they will try to make it into some kind of weapon to kill each other with. You have to understand, not all of us on the other side ever wanted the war as it happened. But we needed to be _safe,_ we needed to know that we wouldn't be the next one hunted. You're so young, you don't know the tales from Grindelwald's time. The Rom were killed, and they held magic. If they couldn't protect themselves, how could we? How could we stop the madness?"

"What he did isn't right."

"But you need to know _why._ You can't condemn us all, you can't just ignore all of the points we had to make. Not all of us wanted the death, but we agreed with the theory of it. There are precautions for a reason." Narcissa pulled away and looked down at the green dress. "He gave me this on our honeymoon. It isn't proper for you after all."

Ginny blinked in confusion as Narcissa went back to her closet. She didn't understand how Narcissa thought, how she could support someone like Lucius. He was _wrong,_ he was trying to mold everything in his own idea of purity.

_And now Harry is doing it,_ Ginny thought suddenly. _Whose vision is right? Who has the right to tell us all how to live?_

Narcissa brought out a dark blue silk dress. "My sister gave me this, long ago, before she left. I couldn't bear to get rid of it, her last gift to me... Andromeda didn't leave word." Narcissa paused as she laid out the dress. "I suppose she thought it was over, there was no more hope in contact." Her fingers brushed over the lace at the collar. "She was the center of everything, the queen amongst us, the best of the Black sisters. Bella fell apart by the betrayal, and I was just a shadow. When Andromeda left, everything was over."

"If you mean Tonks' mother..."

Narcissa smiled bitterly and waved off Ginny's words. "Look at me, ignoring you, when you need help. Here, try this on, take off those rags. It's not proper to have my son looking at you like that. You should be dressed properly at all times. At least your hair is brushed. But it would look better if I did something with it. A simple twist, I think."

Ginny sighed and closed her eyes. She let Narcissa help her with her clothing, she let Narcissa choose the makeup and the style for her hair. She let the incessant society chatter flow over her ears. _She's never had to choose. Her entire life handed to her, and all she had to do was look away and let it be. She never had to choose the hard road,_ Ginny thought suddenly, watching Narcissa brush her own hair. She found it sad somehow, though it hardly seemed as though Narcissa was suffering. Narcissa Malfoy was a pretty woman locked away in a great big house, alone in the dark.

Not everyone wanted to wake up.

***

 

Draco looked up as he heard the shuffling of the house elves. He had been in his father's study, going over the calendars his father had kept. There were odd notations on many of the days, numbers or symbols that were hard to decrypt. He couldn't ask his father; the desk had always been off limits, even when Lucius had been away in Azkaban or in hiding. He left the study and looked at the grand staircase.

Narcissa was descending the staircase for the first time in years, dressed in a pale blue silk dress and heels. Sightly behind her and to the right was Ginny, in a dark blue silk dress of a similar style, her visible scars all gone. Draco could feel his lips part and his eyes widen, but he didn't quite care. She looked amazing, she had helped bring his mother to life, she still managed to blush at him and look almost innocent.

Narcissa caught her son's expression, and half turned her head to look at Ginny. Ginny's eyes were locked on Draco, her anxious expression softening once she saw him. Narcissa sighed to herself, seeing the past unfold all over again. The pale knight greeting his princess, the blush and the uncertainty, the looks that asked _is it real?_

Lucius shouldn't ruin it for Draco, Narcissa vowed. He'd had so little magic in his life like this, so little delicacy. Draco had to be strong, Lucius had said. He had a purpose in life, he had a duty to fulfill, he had a role to play.

But he also needed to be someone's knight, he needed someone to be the sun. And perhaps this strange girl with the fire in her eyes was the one.

"I told the elves we would have lunch in the dining room," Narcissa said, some of the old hauteur back in her voice. Draco remembered her commanding an army of house elves for dinner parties, for his lavish birthday parties, for the society events that Narcissa had sponsored. This had become her battlefield, that had become her purpose. Draco hadn't realized how much he had missed the commanding sound of her voice.

"Of course. I should dress properly."

Narcissa took in the dark slacks and unbuttoned shirt with rolled up sleeves. "At least make yourself presentable. You look most common."

Narcissa ignored the snicker behind her. She was going to do this properly, she was going to fill the spaces left behind in her absence. She had been shut away for too long.

Draco fixed his sleeves and collar, buttoned up his buttons, then smiled at his mother. He held out his arm, and she rested her fingers lightly at his elbow. "May I escort the both of you to luncheon? It would be an honor."

It was a side of Draco that Ginny had never known about, and she was fascinated. He had never seemed so courteous at school, he had never seemed so respectful. There were even more facets to him that she hadn't realized existed. It made her wonder about herself, the untapped sides of herself. There was the Ginny of the Burrow, the Firefae's Heart, the student, the Auror. Was there someone else within her, someone that just hadn't an opportunity to be released?

They sat at the mahogany table, the china plates set out with the sterling silver flatware and crystal goblets. The candlesticks were lit despite the drawn curtains on the tall French windows, and there was a cut glass vase filled with pure white roses. Narcissa sat to Draco's left, and had nodded at Ginny to sit at Draco's right. Draco had shot his mother a startled look at the placement, but Ginny had been oblivious. Narcissa blandly placed her napkin on her lap and tapped her goblet with a fork, signaling the beginning of luncheon.

_This is what it was like to be a Malfoy,_ Ginny realized suddenly. _The silence and the emptiness, the large spaces between everyone... All they have are the rules and the etiquette, the duties and the expectations. This is what he had to live with. And then Harry upset everything, made him seem so small and insignificant. Harry was more important. Everyone loved Harry no matter what he did. But Draco had to live up to so much, and it was never enough._

They were silent through the salad course and the soup course. Ginny silently thought that her mother's summer soups were better, thicker and heartier than the watery stuff the elves had brought out. The thought made her sharply homesick. It _was_ summer, it was time for her mother's soups and stews. If she hadn't been so afraid to go home...

"This is how it always was," Narcissa was saying quietly, startling Ginny. The elves were clearing the soup bowls with their startling efficiency. "This was how it was, the silence and the looks stolen across the table. Your father once looked at me that way."

Draco choked on his water. "Mother, I don't..."

"They used to be so envious of us. We had everything, they said," Narcissa murmured, blotting her lips with her napkin. Ginny surreptitiously mimicked her, as she had with the silverware. "I used to think it was our due. But of course we were the best. I was a Black and then I was a Malfoy, and everything was how it should have been. It shouldn't have changed, there shouldn't have been any difference. We were always supposed to be the best. It was supposed to have been the best match, the one that would make others the most envious.

"But Andromeda left, she turned away and married a Muggleborn wizard. So then your father looked to me. Bella was too wild already, and when Meda left, it broke the last of her. Only Rodolphus would still be interested, that twisted man. Lucius would have turned away from the House of Black had it not been for me. I had been in the library, I had been hiding. They see so much less if they don't want to look, and it's so easy to make them not see." Narcissa wasn't looking at either Draco or Ginny, but staring at the roses in the vase. "He took a rose, he gave it to me, he said I was the last beautiful thing in the entire company. And I was a fool, and I believed him."

"You were never a fool," Draco said fiercely. "You're still beautiful."

Narcissa looked at him, her eyes still glazed with memory. "You have the look of him about you sometimes, when you concentrate, when your brows furrow in thought, when no one's looking and you have to struggle so hard. At other times, you're your own creature, something apart from the rest of us. I almost can't see the Black in you."

"Mother, please, you..."

"He promised me everything and anything. He would give me the world, he said. He would make it right for me, he would fix everything. He would make the world worthy of me, his princess, worthy of the heirs we would have. He would wake me when the time came, when the world was worthy of us all."

Ginny was frozen in place, a lump lodged in her throat. Something was happening here, and she felt as though she had no right to witness it.

"But look at us now, the high and mighty Black sisters, the ones whose debut had put everyone else to shame. Andromeda, lost to the Muggleborns. Bellatrix, lost to the Dementors, and myself, lost to time. And our cousins, lost too long ago to death to count now. That's the fate of the mighty House of Black, and there's nothing left of it now. What good was our name, if the ravages of time still took us, if we truly weren't as worthy as we thought?"

"Mother, that's not true."

"But of course it is, Draco," Narcissa chided, locking her eyes to his. "Who won? Who's the one changing everything? Don't tell me everything is the same, because it's not. I've gotten old, Draco, and there's something wrong with how it's all ended."

"You're not old." Ginny noticed Draco's grip in his fork was too tight, but suppressed the impulse to give his hand a squeeze. She wasn't sure Narcissa would appreciate such a thing coming from her.

"Of course I am. I look better than that cow Agatha Parkinson, but I'm still old. It's worse when you're no longer young. No one respects the old, the infirm, they think you're already half dead and ready to fall the rest of the way. They think you're a shell, you're empty, all dried up and useless. Worthless to think any different, it's just the way it is. This isn't how I planned my life to be, an empty house and a faithless husband waiting to leave me. I have you, but you're ready to move on into your own life. I noticed, Draco. Don't think I haven't. I see it, I see you growing up without me. You've moved on, too. Everyone has, and I'm left here alone." Narcissa looked around the dining room as the next course was served. "It's too dark in here."

Draco looked at Ginny helplessly. The wide windows were all uncovered, and there was light streaming into the room for the first time in years.

"This place needs to be redone for you two. Get rid of every last trace of the old generation, the worthlessness of their cause. We had a purpose once, we had a goal. It's all gone now, it's ended and our time is over."

"You're still here," Draco said, voice tight.

"A relic," Narcissa murmured, holding up her goblet. It sparkled in the light, and she seemed to be remembering something. "I've been lost to time, forgotten in a corner somewhere. Time will catch up with me, will take back everything it's given me. He was good to me once, he was a good man. He was like a knight from the old tales, he filled up the entire room when he entered it. He was charismatic, he could command everyone's attention. I didn't know he had courted Andromeda first until the wedding, when Bella told me. I had hidden away inside of books, as though they would forget me, that I could find an empty space to fall into. He had wanted Meda, someone his own age, someone more suited to him. But Meda left, she left us all behind and couldn't come back to us. Bella was already half mad, lost to us in her own way. So it was left to me, the little one, the pale one, the one that time forgot."

"You still have me," Draco said fiercely, catching Narcissa's other hand in his. "Don't be like this, you still have me, you'll always have me."

Narcissa met Ginny's eyes. "Maybe now, but not for long."

"I would never take your place," Ginny murmured.

"And you couldn't. Not the same way. But he looks at you the way Lucius once looks at me, like he can't quite figure out what happened, but he has to catch hold of it before it goes away, before the dream ends."

"Mother, I..."

"It's all right. My time has passed. It's over, we lost but we got what we wanted anyway. We're still separate, we're still safe. The Muggleborn are still among us, but they've pledged to keep the rest of us safe. It's what we really wanted, it's all that really mattered. Society will recover, we will change, and time might find us all again." Narcissa put down her goblet and disentangled her hand from Draco's. She picked up her knife and fork. "It will be all right. You were only sleeping, Draco, but everything will be all right."

_Sleep. When you wake up, all will be clear._

"Mother, I'm wide awake now. So are you. We're not dreaming, everything's really happening."

"Eat your lunch, Draco," Narcissa said, her tone brooking no argument. "It wouldn't do to have everything get cold."

Ginny felt her lunch stick in her throat and looked at her wrists. Narcissa had insisted on healing them, had felt that keeping them would be some sort of sick reminder. Ginny hadn't really wanted to remember, but she had needed something to force her to move forward. _Don't dwell on it, child,_ the mediwitches at St. Mungo's had said her first year. _It's all over now, we've fixed everything._

Only they hadn't, really, and she had carried the scars inside her heart. It seemed only fair for the scars on her skin to mirror her heart, the dread leftovers of a hope that died. It seemed only fair for people to know the truth, that she was damaged, she was no innocent, she wasn't what they had wanted her to be. She was something else, something more, something that the world had forgotten it needed, the Heart of the Forest, the Center of the Garden, the link between the worlds within and without.

"Leave your skin alone," Narcissa said suddenly, voice steely. "Don't undo all my hard work."

Ginny looked up, flushing, and her wrists settled down into smooth skin again. "I'm sorry."

"So you keep saying. But you were only ever a tool to them, you were never truly real. They're not worth caring about."

Ginny was pale, and she was biting her lip. Oh, she had suspected that Narcissa had known. She had always lumped every Malfoy together. Everyone else she knew had done the same. But Narcissa was so casual about it, and it hurt her anew. The Firefae had made her strong, and she knew what her purpose was now, but the casual cruelties of her past still hurt.

"The study should tell you what you need to know," Narcissa continued, oblivious to Ginny's discomfort. "All their plans are there, the plots and counterplots, the books they never dared to read for fear they would actually need to be smart about it."

"Mother," Draco began. "In father's old calendars...."

"There was a diary," Narcissa interrupted. "Your great-grandfather kept it hidden. All the great pains were in it, it draws more into itself. It's become like a thing alive. I wrote in it once, when we were first married. Lucius didn't know it even existed. Empty spaces always frightened him since he never learned how to be alone. He didn't know what to do with silence. That diary told me more about this family than I ever wished to know. When he told me to stop reading the books in the study, I stopped. I didn't need to know what else he thought he was so brilliant about, I never wanted to know what he would do next. There are the lies you tell yourself to survive, the lies you protect yourself with. I _am_ the sun, I _am_ important to somebody, I _am_ loved. I'm not a substitute, I'm not something that was picked up because there was no one else better. Maybe he convinced himself he loved me. Maybe he convinced himself that he was doing the right thing. I don't know. This house is full of delusions and misery and darkness. And I let myself get trapped inside it."

Ginny felt her chest constrict in pain. "You are someone's sun. You are important to someone."

Narcissa smiled gently at Ginny. "Silly girl. It doesn't matter if he can convince himself to love me if all he wants is to be something more than he can ever be."

"I meant your son. Draco loves you."

"Ah." Nonplused, Narcissa settled back in her chair. "Well then." She took a delicate bite of her lunch. "I had best be worthy of that love, hm? Maybe I should try and see if there's still some fire inside me, if there's will enough to be who I used to be?" She looked at Draco with a thin smile, then at Ginny. "But there's few enough left now, too few who know the old ways. Too few knows the ways of fire and how to walk the worlds."

"My brother does," Ginny blurted. "My brother Bill, in Egypt."

Narcissa's eyes were dark and fathomless. "Those are old ways, indeed. They just might be old enough to help you, then."

Draco took a long look at his mother. "What do you think she needs to do?"

Narcissa swivelled to look at her son. "She's touched by fire, can't you see it in her eyes? There's still chaos to burn away, the emptiness to fill. Didn't you know the old stories? The tales of the Goddesses and how they remade Time and the World? Don't you understand what you two really need to do?"

"Mother..."

"She's the Fire Goddess, and now you're her Guardian. It's a dangerous line to walk, Draco, and I know it's one that Lucius would ruin if he understood it. But the Fire Goddess was only ever a tale for the Black women, told on every wedding night. They always thought it would be a Black that was raised to greatness, that only a Black could give rise to the goddess." Narcissa sighed. "I once hoped it would be me. But in times like these, it's best that it's someone young, still idealistic enough not to be broken by the world."

Ginny looked at Narcissa and took a deep breath. "You aren't nearly as helpless as you think you are, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Neither are you."

Draco looked between the two of them, and suddenly thought that nothing was simple. He had thought this key business would be simple, he could help Ginny fix Hogwarts, give guidance to the Ministry, show up Potter and be hailed as a hero. He had never thought of the Dark Arts tomes in the study, the lines of power drawn there, the magic that had been held in check and out of the eyes of others. He had never put much stock in the fairy tales his mother had told him as a child, the bits of memory pieced together into something mysterious and wonderful. He had never thought of anything other than the duties Lucius had placed before him. He had never thought beyond his own comfort zone before. But his mother had never been so serious before, had never seemed so in her element before. He had never really thought of her as much more than his mother, had never thought of the life she had lived before he had come along. She was his mother, that was all. He had never thought of his Black relatives, the dim names on a tapestry. He had always been a Malfoy, he had always had to be the best. He had to be the prince, the perfect one, the one to take the lead.

Somehow, he had never expected this.

"Father will be sorry he neglected you," Draco said slowly. "And I'm sorry I helped him."

Narcissa held her head high. "He told you some pretty story, I suppose? I let you lie to me, I should have known better myself. I let it happen, I let him do it. I let him hurt me, reduce me down to nothing more than a trophy. And you let him, too."

"I'm sorry."

"You never thought for yourself," Narcissa snapped. "You weren't supposed to. Don't be sorry for doing your duty the way you were trained to do it."

"But..."

"We all did our duty. We all did. And look at where it got us anyway," Narcissa murmured. "An empty house, a single child, a world tottering in on itself and ready to fall over. When we were young, we thought it was all beautiful, we thought we were special. But we were wrong, and now you have to fix our mistakes." Narcissa pointed at them both. "Now finish your lunch, it's practically almost cold."


	4. Chapter 4

**  
It was my choice or chance or curse  
To adopt the cause for better or for worse  
And with my worldly goods and wit  
And soul and body worship it.  
\- Edgar Allan Poe, "To Isaac Lea"  
**

 

"This is not how I ever imagined saving the world would be like."

Draco had to laugh at the disgruntled expression on Ginny's face. "And just what should it be like, then?"

"I don't know. Fighting, or something glamorous. Something to be remembered for. Not going through someone's library sneezing over dusty books trying to figure out what this whole Goddess thing is about."

"I thought you said the Firefae told you everything."

"From _their_ perspective. But I'm pretty sure you wouldn't like Malfoy Manor razed to the ground and a forest put up."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Of course not."

"So there you go. I'm looking for a loophole."

"No one's heard of any of this before. I think you're going to have to make it all up."

"Maybe. I just don't want to be wrong."

"Is it so terrible to be wrong?" Draco reached out and traced the curve of Ginny's cheek. "I was wrong about you."

Ginny smiled at Draco and leaned into his touch. "Maybe not completely so. I suppose it's not important what ultimately happens, as long as the journey there was good, that I don't completely mess up everything. There's a purpose in everything; there must be. And if there's a purpose, then it has to be the road that matters, not the final result."

"And me? You think I was meant to help you? You and your faith in fate..."

"Fate will have tossed you there eventually. I really think there's a reason for everything, that it's not necessarily the ending that's the most important. If you learned anything from your journey has got to be the most important part of life. Otherwise, what's the point?"

"Having everything you want," Draco challenged, leaning back and crossing his arms. "It's the Malfoy way," he added at Ginny's incredulous look.

"My father saw something on a Muggle car once, a sticker that said 'He with the most toys wins.' But he with the most toys doesn't win. He with the most toys suffocated and drowns under a weight of unimportant material things."

"Material things can be very important. It's what people remember you by."

"But not what they remember you _for._ There's no quality of life, no purpose to the journey. And that's the saddest thing of all."

Draco paused a moment. "Very introspective of you."

"Your mother today was so sad, as though she hasn't got anything left in life to live for. But she still has herself, she still has you. And I can't help but feel as though she missed the point. It's not about being the best to show off to other people. It's about being the best to please yourself, so that you _know_ you've done right."

Draco pulled Ginny into his lap. "I said I'd help you because I wanted outdo Potter. So what do you think of that?"

"You're still doing the right thing. You're still doing what needs to be done."

"What if it's not the right thing? What if it's wrong?"

"Then we'll know it when we finish it. And maybe I can change it back."

"And if you can't?"

"I won't regret, Draco. I can't. If I keep thinking I'm doing the wrong thing, I won't be able to move, I won't do a damn thing. And it's worse, if you know you can do something right but you don't. It's just as bad to stand by and let things happen badly."

Draco caressed Ginny through the dress. "If I said I just wanted to be better than Potter, that I wanted something of my own, that I thought I could use you to get it..."

"But that's not it," Ginny whispered, her breath catching. "No, you know there's something more for you out there. You know you can be better. You know you can do the right thing."

"But what _if?_ What if I'm not as good as you think I am, what I'm not worthy of all this faith you put in me?"

"Then I'll be wrong about you. Then I'll be a silly little girl that imagined the whole thing, there were no Firefae, there's no purpose to anything. But my brother would still be dead, and I would still be your father's victim, and I can't accept that it meant nothing."

"Silly Gryffindor," Draco murmured, bending down to kiss her. "Silly of you to think so much of me, I'm just a Slytherin."

"My Slytherin," Ginny murmured against his lips. "Mine."

Draco slid his hand across the front of the silk dress, feeling her nipples begin to harden through the fabric. "Why can't I get enough of you? Why do I feel like I'd die without this?"

Ginny gasped as the bolt of pleasure shot through her. "Not here, Draco, your mother... What if she walks in?"

He took her earlobe between his teeth as his fingers began to move in slow circles. "She won't. Father forbid her to come in here since before I was even born. I don't know what he said, but she hasn't tried to ever come in since."

Draco bent his head down as Ginny's head fell back. Clutching her close, he sucked on a breast through the fabric of the dress. Ginny shuddered in his arms, her breath fracturing. Draco repositioned his arms so that one held her close and the other was free. It snaked down her hip, sending little shivers through her. He traced the edge of her leg, then started sliding up the hem of the dress. He could feel the silk stockings and then her smooth skin beneath his fingertips. It was a tease of what the rest of her could feel like, the weight of her breasts lying in his palm or the feel of her pert backside against him. He could hear the gasp of her breath against his ear. She licked at his earlobe, her breath heavy with lust. Draco sucked on her breast harder as his hand made it all the way up her thigh. He could feel the soft satin of Ginny's knickers, and Draco slid his hand beneath the waistband. She was growing wet for him, and Draco could feel his own need for her building.

There was a startled gasp from the doorway. Ginny let out a strangled cry of surprise, and Draco raised his head in annoyance. If that was a house elf...

Narcissa was standing there, a stack of letters tied together with red ribbon in her hand. "I thought you would want these," she said, voice faint. The letters looked ready to fall from her fingers to the floor. "But you're busy."

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Mother. I got carried away." He couldn't seem to move. His hand was still caught up in Ginny's curls and the other was at her back to steady her.

"I see that," Narcissa said faintly, turning away from them. Her cheeks held a faint pink blush, and she seemed ill at ease for the first time Draco could remember. "I'll leave them here, by the vase. When you're ready, you can get them. No need to.... rush. It's not very important, Draco. They're just letters."

"Thank you, Mother."

Narcissa deposited the letters on top a large ornate vase in the doorway. She then left, closing the door behind her with a distinct click.

Draco sighed, dropping his head onto Ginny's shoulder. Ginny herself was still too shocked to move. "Draco?" she asked after a moment.

"That was weird."

"You still have your hand in my knickers."

"Oh. That's because I was going to finish what I started, if you don't mind."

"But your mother...."

"She's... Well, she's gone now. And I don't think it looked like we were doing anything more than kissing."

"But your _hand_ is down my _knickers!"_

Draco merely smiled at Ginny's worry and flexed his finger. Despite the scare, Ginny was still moist to the touch. She gasped at the move, and her fingers tightened around his forearms. "I know it is. I plan on doing wonderful things to you."

Ginny's breath caught. "Oh." Draco's finger flexed again, and a pure shock of pleasure radiated upward from her clit. "Oh!"

"I like that sound," Draco murmured into Ginny's ear. "I don't think I could ever get tired of that sound. Do it again."

"Oh....." Ginny gasped, head thrown back. Her hands were caught up in Draco's shirt, fisting the material. It was the only thing besides Draco's second arm that was keeping her upright. That second arm, as a matter of fact, was starting to slide downward. Now Draco's arm was skimming the small of her back, fingers splaying onto the tops of her buttocks. Ginny moved her free arm down as she could feel her body begin to tighten. "Draco.... please...."

He was nibbling at her throat, laving at her pulse. "Hm...?"

Ginny's fingers found purchase at Draco's waist, and she slipped her fingers into the waistband. She gasped as Draco's fingers moved around her clit in lazy circles. "You sodding bastard, _help me,_ I can't stand it, I need you now."  
Draco clucked his tongue playfully. "You're in an awful rush. Why not savor it?"

When his fingers plunged into her hot, moist depths, Ginny clenched around him tightly. "Oh, yes, just like that...."

Draco tilted Ginny so that she tumbled over his arm and onto her back. Her legs were splayed wide open, and his hand was still caught up in her knickers. He curled his fingers inside of her, and it sent waves of pleasure ricocheting. Draco used his free hand to undo the front of his trousers, and he pulled at the hem. He could feel her body pulse around his fingers, and her free hand barely stifled her cries. Once Draco's trousers were completely undone, he cast a disappearing charm on Ginny's knickers.

Without waiting for her to calm, Draco plunged into her wet depths and rode the end of her climax. She gasped in appreciation and reached for him. Draco lowered himself down to his forearms, altering the angle of penetration. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together. Ginny was making little humming noises in the back of her throat, her back arching up. Draco, usually quiet, was making little grunting sounds as he thrust into her. She was tight, so tight, and Draco found himself climaxing quickly.

"Did you say something about savoring?" Ginny teased as Draco collapsed on top of her. He was almost comfortingly heavy, and she threaded her fingers through his hair.

He laughed a little breathlessly, and tugged on her hair. "Perhaps. But I don't have to be done with you, you know."

Ginny laughed and pushed him off of her. She rolled over onto her stomach and settled into the plush carpeting. "But didn't we come here with something to do?" she teased. Draco snorted and rolled onto his side to face her.

"What's more important than this?" he asked, stroking her cheek gently.

Laughing, Ginny rolled onto her back, just out of his reach. She let out a contented sigh and grinned lazily. "Oh, I don't know... Saving the world, maybe?"

Draco laughed easily. "Eh... That's Potter's job."

"Didn't you want to outdo Harry? Hm...?" Ginny teased.

Draco snorted. "That's easy to do. He couldn't do anything on his own, he couldn't find you."

Ginny turned slightly and shook her head. "You know..." Something looked almost out of place at the corner of her eye. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Draco asked, sitting up completely. He looked as Ginny rolled away from him and ducked her head under his father's desk. "What are you looking for under there? A lost quill or something?"

"I saw something red..." Ginny mumbled. She reached under the desk and pulled out the red object she had seen. She scuttled back out from under the desk and settled next to Draco. "It's a doll," she whispered.

"A doll. A stick of wax wrapped up in a red cloth is a doll?"

Ginny smiled at Draco and then poked him in the chest with the doll. Draco could feel the surge of power in it. "You said you liked reading books on ancient magicks. So you tell me, what does a little doll do?"

Draco frowned. "The Ancient Greeks used them almost like talismans. The kore was usually dedicated to Artemis in fertility rites when girls got married. There's the dagus, which was used in magic rites, and the daidala, which had religious significance."

Ginny had removed the red cloth as Draco was speaking. There were glyphs on the wax that Ginny barely recognized. Draco looked at the wax in her hand. Perhaps once it had resembled a doll, but over time the limbs had melted together. The glyphs on the torso remained intact, and he found it suddenly hard to breathe. Paling, Draco skittered backward. "That has to be destroyed," he gasped. "Now, we have to do it now."

Ginny almost asked him why he was so afraid, but she looked down at the glyphs instead. This time, instead of looking at them with her eyes, she opened up the magical sense the firefae had instilled in her. _Time to be the Fire Goddess instead of just Ginny,_ she thought.

Draco watched as the wax melted within Ginny's hands, then suddenly caught fire. It burned itself out, but the fire remained behind. The flames danced across her hands, almost sparkling the way the firefae had in Ginny's memories. If he had been afraid before, he was even more so now. The glyphs inscribed on the wax had triggered a primal fear within him, and he didn't quite understand why. Perhaps it was a memory of something that had happened in conjunction with the wax doll, or a memory of the glyphs. In either case, the fear was intense. _Why did she find that thing? Why was it even here in the first place?_ Draco wondered, watching the fire dance across Ginny's outstretched hands.

The fires died when Ginny opened her eyes. Her eyes were hazel green now, and they seemed to look through him. "Your mother made this dagus."

"What?"

"There's so much happening here that doesn't make sense at all."

"I have no idea what you're talking about now, and it's starting to scare me."

Ginny's eyes snapped back into focus. "I'm sorry, Draco. I don't mean to, really I don't. It's just... your mother confuses me. How can she act so fragile, how can she protect your father after all he's done, and do something like this... I don't understand how someone can be like that," Ginny murmured.

"But what is she doing? I don't understand.... What does that thing do?"

"You felt it, Draco," Ginny said quietly. "It inspires fear in anyone countering Narcissa's wishes."

"But me...?"

"You're with me, aren't you? I can't imagine your mother being very pleased about that," Ginny said dryly. "For all that I'm a pureblood, I never would have been acceptable. And I'm sure that my elemental magic mastery doesn't help my case."

Draco was shaking his head. "This is my _mother._ She's been practically helpless for years. She couldn't possibly be capable of doing something like this. Hogwarts doesn't teach dagus magic anyway."

"She used to go through books in here. She mentioned it. There's probably all sorts of books in here she could have used to create something like this... Maybe not in the past few years, but before that. This is an old dagus. It's probably older than you are."

Draco blinked. He opened his mouth to speak, but he heard the doorknob rattle. His back stiffened from its easy posture and he abruptly stood. "It's Father."

Ginny's mouth dropped open. Fire Goddess or not, she wanted to be as far away as possible from Lucius Malfoy. She got to her feet in a swift rolling motion and scooped up the letters Narcissa had left for them to read. "Where can we go?" she asked. She hated that her voice sounded so desperate and frightened.

Draco was already triggering the hidden compartment in the wall. "Here. Behind my great-grandfather's portrait. We won't be found by magic."

Ginny didn't question it, and slipped into the compartment. Draco followed behind her, then sealed the portrait hole shut. Now the compartment could not be opened if they didn't wish it, and the spells laid into the hiding place would make sure that Lucius would never suspect that it was in use. Draco could feel the fear in him that was dagus-inspired, but found it a little easier to ignore at the moment. Perhaps Ginny had done something when she burned away the surface of the wax doll.

What in Merlin's name did a Fire Goddess do anyway?

Lucius entered the study a few moments later, wand in hand. He looked annoyed at having to use complicated unlocking spells on his own private space, and he sat heavily in his chair behind the desk. He looked at the blotter for a long moment, barely breathing. He looked as though he had been actively trying to hide, and Draco suddenly wondered if Narcissa was roaming the halls of the Manor. If so, his father's days of avoiding her were over.

Suddenly, Lucius sat up and rang for a house elf. One appeared with a pop, and bowed low. "Yes?" she asked, voice quivering with fear.

"I need a small jar to be filled with herbs. I want fresh whole leaves brought to me from the gardens. I'll need nutmeg, allspice, basil, fennel seeds, garlic, marjoram, sage, cloves, mustard seed and five white candles."

The elf bowed low and disappeared with a pop. Lucius didn't seem comforted by the elf's deference at all. If anything, he seemed even more discomfited. Something had happened, but Draco was hard pressed to try and guess what it was.

Lucius picked at his fingernails as he waited for the house elf, peeling away the edges. Draco had never seen him do such a thing before, and having nervous habits was a new trait. To be perfectly honest, Draco felt a shard of unease enter his heart. _What's happening, Father? What did you do to make yourself so nervous? Are you guilty for what you did to Ginny? Do you still care about being human at all?_

"It's for scrying," Ginny whispered into Draco's ear. It tickled, but Draco was too discomfited to shiver at the sensual feeling. "Most of that is for protection or guidance. And unless he's planning on enlarging that jar, I'm pretty sure he's going to try and protect his magic while he scrys for whatever it is he's looking for."

"A soul?" Draco found himself whispering back.

"I don't know if he'll find something appropriate," Ginny whispered. Her free hand looped around his torso. "I'm sorry," she added, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I know he's still your father, no matter what else he's done."

Draco turned his head slightly as the house elf returned with a pop. "I know. And it still amazes me that you can even be sorry about him."

"Not him. _You."_

With nothing to say, Draco turned back to his father. Lucius drew a pentagram onto the carpeted floor with his wand, and then placed a white candle at each of the star's points. He sat inside the pentagram and quietly began to measure out amounts of each herb seemingly at random. Draco noted that Lucius did favor protection over luck or purification, both of which were traditionally part of astral plane travel. It almost looked as though Lucius were planning on astral travel, but after a moment it did indeed seem as though Ginny was right. Once Lucius sealed the glass jar, he unfolded a map of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade from his pocket. He shook the jar a few times, mixing its contents, then uncapped it and inhaled deeply. Lucius did this three times, then quickly recapped the jar. The fingers of his right hand traveled over the map at random, and the candles flickered uneasily as he did so.

What was he looking for?

Draco turned to look at Ginny, wondering if she was just as confused as he was. But her eyes were closed, her lips moving slightly.

And then they were gone.

***

 

Once upon a time were the three Black sisters. Andromeda was the eldest and the most sought after of the three. She was even tempered, just this side of tall and smiled easily. Everyone felt special with her, and she was always the most excellent hostess. Bellatrix had a casual smile and a sharp wit, but her words often turned to the cruel. People tended to feel as though they had slighted her somehow, and deserved every word. If only they had behaved properly, then she would love them better. Young Narcissa was the fair blossom of the three sisters, slight and bookish. She twisted out of sight, preferring the moonlit gardens and the slanted rays of afternoon sun through the library windows. She had dreams, and everyone felt protective of her gentle and shy smiles.

Others had to catch up to their height. They were the ultimate in grace and beauty, the pinnacle of Pureblood breeding and pride. They were coveted, favored, loved.

Narcissa crawled into the darkness of ancient tomes as she felt her sisters slip away from her. It was nothing overt, but she could feel something behind her sisters' smiles. She was too young to compete with them, being five years younger. But Andromeda and Bellatrix were hardly more than a year apart, and traveled within the same circle. There was tension, something shifting and unsteady between the sisters, and it gave an edge to their tones. Narcissa hated it, could feel her love for them cut sharply. She would have to choose, she knew, and it was really only a matter of time. They would make her choose who she loved most, and she really didn't know who she would choose. How do you love one sister less, one sister more? How do you rank something that could not be measured?

_Come to me, child,_ the books of the library whispered. _Tell me of your pain. Let me see if I may help._

And so young Narcissa began to speak. She knew who she was, how little her parents had time to spare for her. She wasn't marketable yet. She was merely little Cissa of the flaxen hair and shy smiles, hiding in her dresses inside the library as the suitors paraded in the front parlor for her sisters. She was too young, just eleven, on the edge of twelve. She was an ickle firstie, she wasn't ready for the Marriage Mart yet. There was time to mold her properly, to teach her more of the ways to entrap the favored youth of Polite Society. Classes were scheduled for hols to cement the lessons she had been tutored in since birth.

Narcissa wanted to scream. Surely there was something more than this. Surely there was something out there that could be just hers.

_Let me show you, child,_ the books whispered. _Here, turn my pages. I've helped many a young Black move on to greatness..._

It felt as though Narcissa was caught up in a wave and being dragged out to sea. She was moving without thinking about the whys or hows or what ifs. She would go somewhere special, she would be something special. _The books will help me,_ she thought fiercely. _Then they'll love me better, they'll love me, they'll love me if I'm perfect..._

But it didn't work that way.

Narcissa felt the letter opener dig into the palm of her left hand, but it didn't jerk her out of the strange waking dream. She saw the ancient rune form, the blood rise to fill the jagged marks. She stamped it down on a piece of parchment, her truth in reverse. She burned it over a red candle in the study, chanting words she never understood. She stood there and let three drops of blood fall onto the wick of the candle, then picked it up. She deftly molded the candle into a wax doll, though it should have been impossible to do without breaking it. She wrapped the figure in her red handkerchief and then tucked it into the sash at her waist.

A dagus. A most ancient magic spell, the words of which had been lost for centuries.

She felt as though she were moving underwater, watching her actions from afar. She trusted in the books, and watched with detached interest. _My heart, my love, my dreams, my hopes, my heart. She is me, I am her, wax and doll and blood and fear, my heart and my will and my life force. She is me, I am her, and we will protect one another for all of eternity._

The dagus lay at the bottom of her jewelry box for years. It offered subtle comfort. Her bright and beautiful sister Andromeda left the family and was blasted off the tapestry. Narcissa held her dagus in her palm that night and felt its warmth. _I am still loved,_ the doll told her. _We still hold their heart, we are still cherished. We are loved._

Bellatrix grew angry, and lines appeared around her mouth. Her hands curled into fists, her voice grew shrill. She stayed out late, she had strange friends, she was growing distant and fearsome. It was almost as though the loss of competition with Andromeda had broken her. She was a bundle of rage without a target, an arrow without an object to strike. A blade with no handle, Bellatrix was more dangerous than ever. Narcissa instinctively kept out of her way.

_We are still loved,_ the dagus whispered. _Lucius looks to you, to your quiet wisdom and soft words. He will hold your heart precious, he can be your treasured knight. He will hold you up as queen, he will cherish you and bring you more love than you can hold. We will protect you, love, we will shower you with benevolence._

But he barred her from the library, he struck her down and forbid her the very comfort he had purported to admire. He put her on a pedestal, and kept its limits narrow.

_I will shape him,_ the dagus whispered. _I will keep him in line so that he never wavers from your knight, that you will always be his queen. Your love will be pure, he will always be worthy of you. As long as I am near him, I will keep him true._

Stuck beneath the treasured desk for years, the dagus had done its work well.

Narcissa knew the moment that it was removed from the study. She could feel it as a tug within her chest, a bright burst of fire as the Fire Goddess lifted it from its hiding place.

_The Fire Goddess will take my place,_ the dagus whispered to Narcissa's soul. _She will have to burn the purity back into him, he grew defiled in my absence. He did foul and cruel things, he uttered curses that should not be borne. It is more than I can do, he needs to be purified and it is beyond my capabilities._

Narcissa thought of the frightened girl wrapped around the Fire Goddess within her. The goddess was waking, and it seemed as though the tales were walking.

Sitting in the quiet of the Manor gardens, Narcissa looked out at the rose garden. It had overgrown, as the elves were forbidden to do anything more than weed and water. Narcissa had always enjoyed trimming the roses, shaping them and caring for them. _I had asked for too much, perfection and a child, love and longing. I always asked for too much..._

In the back of her mind, Narcissa watched the climbing roses creep along the ground then take hold of her ankle. It closed around her foot, the thorns digging deep. The vine traveled up her leg, then around her waist. It lifted her up, dragging her back into their depths. _Flowers belong together, and you are really one of us..._

Snapping out of it, Narcissa stood. This was silly. Foolishness borne of too much sun at once. What was she thinking, going out without a parasol, without any attendants? It had been an age since she was out and about, and she had forgotten her usual rounds as chatelaine of the Manor. It would forgive her errors, of course. The Manor approved of her, had responded well under her care and had returned the favor by caring for her in her mental absence.

Lucius never understood such things. They were beyond his sphere. He thought outward, she thought inward. It couldn't be helped; they were simply different. Lucius had his own role to play, and Narcissa had to help him however she could. _He deserves something wonderful, he's worked so hard to try and make things right, he's tried to do right by all of us._

But he wasn't pure enough yet. The Fire Goddess had to purge the wickedness from him, and then he would be her true knight errant again, and she would be the worthy princess that he fought for.

Once upon a time there were three Black sisters. But once upon a time was far too long ago, and she was the only one left.

***

 

The stones of Hogwarts Castle were sharp and jagged. It was rubble, ash and dirt with a faint trace of despair still wafting about the place. The air seemed stale, as though the wind simply died at the edge of the castle's boundaries. Perhaps it had, as nothing ever seemed to change. The stones remained broken, odd stairs circled to nowhere, short spires that were once great walls rose from the ruined foundations.

Ginny appeared at the heart of the ruin, her arm still wrapped around Draco's torso. He stumbled slightly, but her grip was like iron. She held him until he steadied, and her gaze was even as she took in his reaction.

"Why are we here?"

"You said you would help me," Ginny murmured. Her voice seemed almost deeper, more resonant and forceful. "You said you would do whatever is in your power to help me in what I need to do."

"Yes. I still mean it." Draco paused. "What do you want to do?"

"Is my cause your cause?" she asked instead. Her eyes seemed to shimmer slightly, a glow forming from within.

"Yes, Ginny. I told you. Whatever it is, whatever we have to do. What does it matter whose name goes on it? It doesn't matter if it's yours or if it's mine, we're in this together. I'm going to help you fix whatever it is that's wrong. We need to move on."

Her eyes shone with the brightness of a star in darkness. Draco fixed his gaze to hers, unable to turn away despite the pain growing. Her gaze was blinding, searching, burning.

Draco was falling, slipping beneath a wave of darkness that twinkled with a scattering of stars. He looked up, unable to find anything familiar from Astronomy. It was as though he were so far away from home, or so far away from _when_ that nothing was familiar.

"Welcome," a cheerful voice said to his right.

Draco turned and peered through the endless twilight. Ginny stood beside him, her hair streaming and moving on an unseen wind. Her eyes were glowing slightly, and she seemed almost impossibly beautiful. There was something ethereal about her, something that was more like a goddess than a mere mortal. He would never have believed it before, but the human aspect of Ginny was much more comforting and familiar. She smiled at Draco, but her smile seemed more sinister than loving or kind. He suppressed a shudder and met her gaze head on. This was the Fire Goddess, then, and he was her Guardian and Consort. So be it. This was the way of it, then, and this was just how it was going to be.

"I am your girl, but so much more," Ginny said in that oddly resonant voice.

"The Fire Goddess," Draco murmured. She nodded. "I'm ready."

She smiled, and the twist of her lips seemed almost cruel. "I am the darkness beneath the shadows. I am the emptiness at the bottom of every breath. I am the ending before life begins, I am the fire that burns away the impure. I am the bottomless pit, the deep desire which is denied. I am the key that unlocks every door."

"I am not afraid," Draco said. "I choose to stand by your side. I choose to help you."

"You found me by accident, young one. I did not think it would be you."

"It doesn't matter," Draco replied. "I'm here now, and I'm the one that's willing to do the job. Don't think anyone else will step up without asking what being your hero will entail."

The Fire Goddess laughed, and it sounded like the crashing of waves against cliffs. "I am the glory of your discovery, for I am that which is hidden, the key to every door. I am the salvation of your world and I can be its destruction. You cannot know what I would choose. You only know what the girl would choose, and it may not be my choice."

"And what would you want of me?"

"Yours is the voice I hear. Yours is the guidance to my choice."

"And if you don't like what I have to say?"

She smirked at him. "Afraid of burning, little boy?"

"As afraid as you are," Draco snapped. "And I don't think you are at all."

"I am living fire, little boy. I am the Fire Goddess, I am the darkness of the worlds, I am the heart of the Crossroads and the key to different worlds."

"Then I have the pleasure of meeting you at the Crossroads between the worlds."

An eyebrow lifted; the Goddess was intrigued. "You think this is the Crossroads?"

"There has always been a power here, something wild and untapped. And I think that's why it's always been so protected. I think it's been guarding the gateway, and Ginny's become the key to unlocking that gateway."

The Fire Goddess' lips curved into a smile that was at once endearing and disturbing. "Then Fate has handed me a wonderful Guardian Consort indeed. You are very perceptive, and not a child at all." She reached out for him, just out of reach. "Do you come to me of your own free will?" she asked, voice soft and lilting.

"With everything I have," Draco murmured, catching hold of her hand. The contact burned, but he held on. "I chose you, just as you chose me. Maybe we didn't know what we were looking for, maybe we didn't know what we wanted. But something between us fits, and I never even knew I was missing something. I don't plan on ever letting go of that."

Her smile curved into Ginny's loving one. "And you will never have to."

They kissed, and it felt as if they were waking from some deep and dark dream.


	5. Chapter 5

**  
Human blunders do more to shape history than human wickedness.  
\- A. J. P. Taylor  
**

 

There were times when incantations were too limited. Sometimes, a more physical magic had to be performed, with rituals and symbols of power. Bill Weasley had been sent an owl by Molly Weasley. Ginny's arrow on the house clock had hovered somewhere between Mortal Peril and Death for the past several months, and just two days before had shifted to Danger. Molly had been unable to identify any trigger to spark the change, and was hoping that Bill could perform some ceremony similar to the one he had cast while Ginny had been missing. "The Old Ways have worked once," Molly had written. "Maybe they can work again and bring my baby girl back home, safe and sound."

Bill had asked one of his fellow curse breakers for advice. The information he had was very limited, and Jahi Ausar as a result had very limited advice. Bill and Jahi had been working together for close to six years, and Bill considered Jahi another brother. Jahi had felt the same, and had asked Bill to be part of his wedding party. He told Bill about a very simple but powerful spell to focus and eliminate negative energies, which both men hoped would allow Ginny to return home. Bill followed the complicated purification rituals, and then sealed himself inside an empty office after hours. He brought with him a cauldron, a large black candle and fresh water straight from the Nile River.

Bill set the cauldron carefully down on the office floor and placed the candle into its center. He filled the cauldron to the rim with the fresh water, taking care not to wet the candle's wick. Three inches of candle remained exposed, and Bill began to meditate on his sister. He held a picture of Ginny in his hand, taken at the party her friends had thrown on her acceptance into the Auror program. It was the most recent picture he had, and it was easily almost two years old. It simply had to do.

Bill closed his eyes and began to breathe. He could feel the cool night air, fresh and crisp and alive. He had always loved Egypt, its calm and its deep seated magic. Ginny had loved it here, and had done up her eyes in the Egyptian style for months afterward. He still made sure she had kohl sticks for her eye makeup. Ginny had smiled, caught his hand, and laughed at him. "Do you think I'm as pretty as any princess?"

The wick flared to life, and began to burn.

Bill felt the shift of magic in the room, and began to feel a tightness in his chest. His sister was surrounded by all sorts of magic, and he had no idea what meant what. He focused on his sister's face, and began to visualize the power of black magic and negative energy as residing within the candle's flame. His thoughts turned from his sister to the nature of evil and the darker magicks. The candle flame leapt higher, and the temperature rose precipitously within the tiny office space. The power against his sister would be burned away, the evil and negativity around her would burn itself out. The darkness would twist within itself and fall into sleep, never to wake and burden the living with its pain. Bill would protect his sister with his life and his love, and the purity of the water would wash her clean. As the candle burned down, the water would wash away the darkness and evil. As soon as the flame was extinguished by the water, the dark magic binding Ginny far from home would break.

It took four hours, but Bill felt the tension in the room break as the candle went out. His eyes snapped open, and he watched the smoke drift lazily upward. The room rapidly returned to its former cool temperature. The sky outside was dark and spattered with stars. It had usually been one of Bill's favorite sights in Egypt, but he took no notice of it now. With one fluid motion, he rolled to his feet and carefully picked up the cauldron. He took care not to spill a single drop, and knew he could not use magic to help in this endeavor. The door could be opened by magic, and it did so easily, but the cauldron could only be lifted by hand. Jahi had been adamant on that point, else the magic used to lift the cauldron disrupt the spell.

Bill carefully walked to a hole he had dug prior to the ceremony. He carefully poured the river water into the hole, then placed the candle into the hole as well. Bill buried the candle, making sure that the area looked no different from the rest of the land surrounding the office he had used.

Exhaling deeply, Bill looked up at the sky. "Come home, Ginny. Be safe."

He gripped the cauldron tightly in his hand, then walked back to his apartment.

***

 

Lucius Malfoy was not pleased. This was supposed to be a strong locator spell, involving several planes of existence, and it wasn't working. Someone had lied to him, and someone would have to pay for that.

In anger, Lucius swept the candles aside. Most of them were snuffed out, but one landed on the map he had been perusing, and it caught alight. He watched the map burn, lip curled in anger. He had never failed before, not like this. Not when he actually _tried_ to do something. Not when he actually _cared_ about the outcome.

_You were never a very good Malfoy, now were you?_ a voice lanced across his mind. It sounded almost like his great-grandfather's.

_Look at you. Weak, pitiful. Not befitting my good name at all._

In horror, Lucius stood up and looked around the den. There was no one else there, yet the voice spoke clearly in his mind. "Is someone there?"

_Foul child. Not from _my_ loins, at the very least. I'd never allow a whelp like this to live, not with my good name attached to him. Malfoys are strong, they are worthy, they are the leaders of wizards. Every generation, there was a Malfoy in power. Every generation, my blood rising ever farther. My blood could be married to greatness! And yet all I have with it is you, you incompetent fool! You threw it all away! You destroyed everything worthy and grand about my name, you sullied my reputation!_

"Grandfather?" Lucius asked, voice trembling. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. His grandfather and great-grandfathers were dead. They weren't even ghosts within the manor, only lost memories.

_Insufferable_ whelp!

Lucius put his hands over his ears in anguish. He wasn't hearing this. This couldn't be right, it couldn't be real. He had always been a good son, he had always done right by the family name, lifting it to even higher greatness. The Dark Lord was the key, he was the one that would elevate them further. It had to be some kind of trick. It had to be a trap. He had to have made some kind of mistake in the spell.

That was it. He got the concentrations wrong. Instead of piercing the planes of existence to find Dumbledore's key, he stumbled across the realms of the dead. Yes, that was it. That was the explanation. It was quite simple.

_Oh, you did enough protection, boy. Not enough luck. Not enough purification. You aren't pure! You're not pure enough!_

No. That wasn't right. That wasn't true. Lucius Malfoy was a Pureblood. Only the purest blood ran in his veins. He was pure. He had to be.

_You can't protect yourself from truth. You know what you are._

Lucius looked around the room desperately. Something was playing with him. Someone was trying to hurt him. This was a spell. He had accidentally triggered some kind of a spell, that was all. Someone wanted to do him harm.

Otherwise, he was going mad. And that was absolutely unacceptable.

A book on the desk was bleeding. Blood oozed from its pages onto his blotter, thick and almost black. Lucius couldn't understand the fear of it, why sluggish blood would haunt him so, why a mere book would harm him.

_You know what you've done. You know who you've wronged,_ the voice mocked him, laughing in the back of his mind. Lucius could feel it like an itch within his skull, something crawling about his brain, pressing down and making his thoughts thick. _You know exactly what you've done. You can't just wish it away.... Your evil is a stain upon your soul, and it will never wash away. You will never be clean, you will never be pure. You know what you've done, and it can never be erased!_

"No," Lucius whispered. He brought his hands over his ears, nails digging into his scalp. This wasn't right. This wasn't true. This couldn't be. This voice mocked him, but it wasn't right, this voice was merely a figment of a spell meant to break him. The voice wanted to harm him, wanted him to fail. It wanted to trap him.

He had to be close. That had to be it; he was close to his aim and the key would soon be found. He was on the right track, and those that hid it following Dumbledore's death sprung traps to haunt the hunters.

That had a ring of truth to it. There were many spells made to taunt the mind. He'd crafted many a spell like it in his time as Death Eater.

Yes. That was it. That had to be it. He wasn't going mad. He was still perfectly sane, perfectly in control of his faculties. He was just too close to the truth, too close to the key that would lead to his salvation. He could control everything with this key; it did as it was told. It was obedient, it twisted reality to its wielder's will.

"I will have you," he murmured, straightening. The crippling fear and anxiety was gone. In its place was a cool calm. "You will be mine."

He left the ash behind on the floor. There was no book on the desk. There was no blood. There was no voice. It was all a trick of the mind, a spell because he came too close.

The key was at Hogwarts. He could feel it.

***

 

"Get away from her!"

Draco and Ginny parted slowly, and turned to look at Harry Potter. He was standing there, wand in hand and pointed at Draco's chest. Two unknown Aurors flanked him, their wands out but not yet pointed. Eyebrows raised, Ginny crossed her arms beneath her breasts and stared at Harry without speaking. She was half covering Draco, and he found he didn't mind being caught up behind her. It was kind of nice, being protected for a change. It was certainly a novelty.

"Get out of the way, Ginny," Harry said through grit teeth. He didn't take his narrowed eyes off of Draco. "Now that we've found you..."

"You didn't find me," Ginny replied easily. There was an undercurrent of power in her voice, something that Draco had only started hearing once she had fully accepted the Fire Goddess within. The others didn't seem to hear it, and only seemed to recognize the part of her they were looking for. "Draco did. That's why he's here."

Harry blinked in surprise and shock, and took in the smooth silk of her dress and the expensive jeweled comb in her hair. She didn't look lost or hurt at all. "Ginny?" he asked, voice betraying his hurt. "How could you say that? We've been looking for you for months. We've been so worried about you and the twins." His wand hand wavered and dropped just a bit. Ginny didn't move a muscle. "What's going on?"

"I suppose we can tell you."

"Must we?" Draco asked, eyeing Harry warily. "Why should we?"

"Because every little bit of help would be good right about now. And because we'll need a place to talk that isn't the Manor."

Draco's sighed and nodded in agreement. Harry took it all in with amazement. Since when did Draco acquiesce to anyone? And since when did he listen to Ginny? "All right then," Draco was saying. "If you think that's best."

"For now." Ginny reached behind her and caught Draco's hand in hers. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, and he felt somewhat comforted by it. "We should go. It won't be safe here for much longer."

"My father?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. He's looking for the key, still. He won't stop until he finds it, and it's driving him into madness." Ginny's eyes resembled the embers of a banked fire, and Draco swallowed down his fear. She knew what she was talking about, he reasoned. She knew what she was doing. She was the Fire Goddess, after all. She had to know what she was doing… right?

She grasped his hand tightly. "It will be all right. We'll fix this."

"Ginny!" Harry called sharply. She swivelled her glowing eyes at him, and he swallowed nervously. "We need to talk."

"Yes, we do. We need to go somewhere safe, where even your own people won't know where we are. That kind of information will be traced."

Harry frowned, and looked at the Aurors beside him. They seemed perturbed by Ginny's words, but were willing to trust his judgment on this matter. He sighed. "Go on ahead and tell the others what's happened. Someone will need to tell Ron and the Weasleys that Ginny's been found. I'll take care of this."

They Apparated away from the scene with dual cracking sounds splitting the air. Harry turned to Draco and Ginny, his lips pressed into a thin line. "This had better be good."

"You'll understand when we get to speak."

Harry came closer to them, eyes transfixed by Ginny's. "Gin, what's happened to you?"

"All in good time," Ginny replied easily. She grasped hold of Harry's hand with her free one. "Think of your safe place, Harry. I'll take us there. There's no way to trace my movements from here if I don't wish it."

"What are you…"

"I see it now. That's as good a place as any."

And then the three of them disappeared.

***

 

"Where are we?" Draco asked, annoyed. The ramshackle ruin had crumbling walls littered with cobwebs and dust. This was _not_ the kind of place a Malfoy wanted to be.

"This…" Harry's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Godric's Hollow. My parents lived here, until Voldemort killed them. Most people can't even see the ruins anymore since it's been layered with protective spells."

Draco spun around to stare at Ginny. "That's why you said this was a good place. He'd never think to find us here."

"Who are you talking about?" Harry asked, annoyed. He looked from Ginny to Draco, expression hardening slightly. The war had made him somewhat less trusting, which Draco had never thought he would ever see. "You were going to tell me what's going on."

Ginny waved one of her hands and the floor was cleared of debris instantly. Harry goggled at her in shock, and Draco wanted to jump up and down laughing at him. _She's mine,_ Draco wanted to say. _You can't have her, you silly twit. You missed out, you lost your chance. You don't deserve her!_ Draco managed to restrain himself from gleefully chortling, and merely smiled at Harry.

"Don't gloat," Ginny murmured in Draco's direction. He could barely hear her. "It isn't becoming behavior at all." He saw her quirked eyebrow and bare edge of a smile. Good thing she was amused by his behavior. Draco knew full well it was out of character for a Malfoy, but he couldn't help but feel a _little_ superior to Potter. It wasn't every day he was able to show up the other man without any effort.

"You can tell the story. Or would you rather show him?" Draco asked instead.

Her eyes flashed at him as she conjured comfortable chairs. "No. We shall speak. I don't think he could handle it half so well," she added in a voice pitched to Draco's ears.

Harry sank down into one of the chairs. He was pointedly avoiding looking at the rubble around him, trying not to think about what had happened here all those years ago. There was something about Ginny now that didn't sit well with him, though he couldn't place it. It was besides the fact that she was with Malfoy; that couldn't have happened very long ago for him to be so very possessive of her. Yes, Harry would've liked it if Ginny needed him, but he didn't need to be everyone's hero. She seemed less reserved somehow, as though something were fundamentally different with her.

"Just tell me everything," Harry murmured. "I'll take it as best as I can."

Ginny nodded, and sat down across from him. Draco sat down in the seat next to Ginny, but he didn't touch her. This was her show, and he was simply along for the ride.

"Dumbledore mentioned a key when he died," Ginny began slowly. "He had been informed by the firefae that they were looking for someone to become the Heart of the Forest. The Heart of the Forest is the Fire Goddess of myth. She is the creature of creation, the one that decides whether life is worth living, or if it should be uncreated." She smiled gently at Harry. "They had been looking for many years, and had never found anyone suitable."

"Until you," Harry guessed. His throat was dry. A goddess of uncreation? What in the world was he supposed to do about this?

"Exactly. Fred, George and I were on patrol that night, remember? We saw lights in the forest and went to investigate. Unfortunately, the firefae determined that I would be their perfect Heart, and the twins couldn't have me back." Ginny frowned, and looked over at Draco. Draco looked at her intently, but didn't say a word. "Something happened, I'm not sure what it was, and I was broken loose too soon."

"Mrs. Weasley wrote to Bill," Harry said, voice rasping slightly. He was very pale, and sitting very still. "They wanted to do a spell of some sort to find you."

"It broke me out too soon," Ginny said slowly. "And Lucius Malfoy was combing the ruins of Hogwarts looking for Dumbledore's key."

Harry sat up straighter in his chair. "He did something! We knew it!"

"Not what you think," Ginny said gently. "He was planning on going into hiding anyway, so that no one would find him to place him in Azkaban." She took in a deep breath. "He found me, started to demand that I give him the key. I'd been missing for so long, I didn't know what he was talking about. And then when I couldn't answer, he raped me."

Harry blinked, and looked between Ginny and Draco. "I don't understand."

"He raped me. He thought to punish me, since obviously I was hiding what I knew."

"But… Why are you with _him,_ then?"

"Draco is not his father." Ginny's voice was hard, and her eyes bored into Harry's. "I don't want to hear of you saying that he is."

Harry took a deep breath. "How much of this am I supposed to just simply accept?" He ran a hand through his ragged hair. "You disappeared, Ginny. You were missing, and your clock hand didn't say anything about what condition you were in. We had no clues, nothing. And then he finds you? And I'm supposed to trust that he had nothing to do with it?"

"Yes," Ginny said simply. "Because he didn't know he was going to find me until he did, and he didn't know what would happen next." She leaned forward in the chair, eyes not leaving Harry's face. "I'm asking you to trust me when I say that Draco isn't the enemy, and that my being with him is not going to be a problem."

"I don't know if I can."

Draco had to admit, at least Harry was honest, and at least he was keeping his temper. If Draco had been presented with a similar situation, he would likely have hexed something by now.

"You're going to have to. Lucius is going to come after me. He wants that key, and he doesn't realize that I'm the key he's looking for."

"How does that work?" Harry asked. "How are you a _key?"_

She smiled. "I'm the Fire Goddess, and I've been set with the task of fixing the world. It's not a physical key that Dumbledore meant, but a metaphysical one. A key turns in a lock and opens doors, Harry. I'm meant to unlock uncreation, and I'm meant to recreate the world."

He rubbed at his face. "And Draco? What's he supposed to do?"

"None of your business, Potter," Draco hissed as Ginny opened her mouth. "She's the important one here, not me. Keep your mind on what's important here." Draco ignored the questioning look that Ginny shot at him. She had to do her task. Harry didn't have to know that Draco was her consort, or that he had pledged to help her do whatever was necessary. To be honest, Draco was starting to get the feeling that it had to do with killing his father. That was going to be unpleasant, but he had promised. Malfoys always kept their promises, no matter how distasteful or messy they may be. Harry was a Potter, and they didn't know about things like that. Potter and his demented girlfriend Loony Lovegood were leading charmed lives, and the Weasel -- _Weasley_ he reminded himself – family didn't need to know about his life. Just because they all held Ginny in common now didn't mean that Draco had to cozy up and be friends. He wasn't a nice creature, and it would do Potter well to remember that.

Sighing, Ginny looked from Draco to Harry. "As blunt as that was, he's right. There's no set place in the mythology for him, so you don't need to worry about him. We'll deal with Lucius Malfoy when we find him. He'll come out of hiding soon enough."

Harry frowned. "How can you be so certain?"

Ginny smiled, and the look of it set Harry's teeth on edge. It was so unlike the girl he remembered, a sinister smile she never would have been capable of just months ago. "I know Lucius and his kind. They've never been able to resist the pull of dangerous and illicit magicks. I know he'll come for me soon enough."

***

 

Narcissa watched Lucius leave Malfoy Manor for the Apparition point on the edge of the Manor grounds. "Blinky," she murmured softly. "Follow him. I want to know where he's going and who he is going to see."

The house elf dutifully bowed and then Apparated away.

She stared out across the grounds with troubled eyes. The skies were dark and cloudy. A storm was coming, and she didn't think her family would make it through unscathed.

"Goddess," Narcissa whispered, pressed against the glass of her bay window. "Please protect us and keep us safe. Please..."

***  
***


	6. Chapter 6

**  
First, decide that the thing must be done; then find a way to do it.  
\- Abraham Lincoln  
**

 

The key was at Hogwarts.

Lucius Malfoy knew he had always been destined for greatness. He wasn't some weak, pathetic creature to be put down because he had outlived his usefulness. He knew the implicit rules in this game, he knew what he had to do. He had to get the key, he had unlock its magic. He had to take control of things, to pick up the pieces left in the Wizarding World. He had to do his duty and take up the reins and lead. He was a leader, and he would be the one to lead the masses away from the filthy Muggles and Muggleborns that had begun to filter up the echelons. He knew purity of magic and heart, and he would be the one to lead the way.

All he needed was the key.

It was hiding somewhere. He had been here for some time – meaning lost form and track of time, and names of things lost all meaning. Weeks, days, months, it didn't matter. It felt like an age, so it must be an age. And that was certainly a long enough time for a Malfoy to be digging in the dirt with his own two hands. No Malfoy had ever before lowered himself to do such a task, but there was no one else competent enough to do it. So he knelt, hands and knees scabbed over, scrabbling about for a key. He had been searching in the rubble, turning over every smashed brick and stone. There was no one there to mark the time, no one there to save. It hid somewhere, deep within the wreckage. The Weasley girl had been there, cowering amongst the ruins. His rage and desire had intermingled; when he had raped her, it had been the first time he had touched female flesh in years. Narcissa had been too fragile and pale for him to sully her with base desires. But the Weasley girl had been all curves and hip, wide eyed and frightened. It had been all right, because she hadn't meant anything anyway. She didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. None of it mattered anymore.

The key was eluding him, and he could feel himself grow mad.

Ghosts and memories refuse to die and they embed themselves into the walls. Lucius was surprised he hadn't seen any of Hogwarts' ghosts in any of his visits. Perhaps they were guarding the key. Perhaps they sought to hide it from him, to keep its power for themselves. Did they think it would make them mortal again? Did it have that kind of power? He needed the key, Merlin damn them all. No ghost could keep it from him, even if he had to smash every brick down to the foundation to find it.

Magic from the Old Ways was more than smoke and mirrors, illusion and shadow. Lucius knew this down to his bones. He was from a long and distinguished Pureblood line, not that such things mattered anymore. He was above such things. Digging in the dirt was a job for servants to do, only he had no trusted servants for these things. There were things beneath the dirt. Creeping things, crawling things, digging things, decaying things. Deep within the dirt lay the dead, their empty grinning skulls calling to him. The darkness had come over the life, the darkness had closed their eyes forever. They wanted him to join them, to give up his magic and his power and his search for the key.

They all wanted the key. But it was his, it was his. Only a Malfoy was good enough to find the key and wield its power.

It was hidden, somehow. Maybe it wasn't in the shape of a key any longer. The others that wanted to keep it hidden had changed its shape, put a mask over it, and were having a hearty laugh that anyone would look for it in the shape of a key. But Lucius was smashing apart every brick, and they all shattered like bricks. None of them shattered like a key, or sounded like a key, and casting a glamour over something didn't change its basic sounds, composition or function. It would still be a key, still sound like a key, still smash like a key. It just wouldn't look like a key, and he needed to find the key.

His head hurt. It hurt a lot, and even when he had thoughts like tiny spikes he knew that something wasn't good, and something wasn't right, and everything shouldn't be spinning in circles the way they were.

Lucius knew he was being watched long after it had actually begun, and cursed himself for his stupidity and for losing his mind. _Malfoys don't go insane... They grow eccentric. They go mad. They hex everything in sight..._

Ginny watched him, eyes large and lustrous. They almost seemed to shimmer like stars in a midnight sky. She reached out for him, the tips of her fingers glowing.

Draco was standing behind her, his eyes like chips of flint. When he had stopped looking at Lucius with reverence? When did he grow a spine of his own? When had he taken up with the Weasley girl? Questions whirled in Lucius' mind, unable to settle in any sort of pattern. His head hurt with the effort to keep his thoughts linear, but they spiraled out of reach and off into the distance again. He threw down the bricks in his hands.

"Where is the key?" he bellowed, voice cracking. He didn't even pay attention to Harry Potter and another Auror coming up to the Hogwarts grounds as well. They didn't matter. His son and the Weasley bitch were the only ones that mattered now. _They knew._ He could see it in their eyes. They knew where the key was, and they were keeping it from him. "Where have you put it, you foul creature?!"

Ginny's eyes were the hearts of untold galaxies. Looking in them would mean he would drown, and Lucius couldn't do that. "I am the Fire Goddess," she said, and he could feel her words resound to his bones. "I am the key to creation and uncreation. I am meant to unlock the world's potential or to pass judgment and render it all to ash."

_The key._ "You swallowed it, you filthy Muggle lover! Give it back to me!"

She looked on him with pity – him! A Malfoy! They were never objects of pity! – and began to walk down the hillside. Draco was at her side, moving in step. They were eerie to watch, and Lucius could feel his spine shiver. _Your evil is a stain upon your soul, and it will never wash away. You will never be clean, you will never be pure. You know what you've done, and it can never be erased!_

He held his wand out over his own son, over the Weasley girl. "Give it to me. Give me the key, I need it!"

"And what would you do with it, Lucius Malfoy?" Ginny asked, her voice oddly resonant, her eyes now a deep forest green and full of stars. "What would you do if you had the key to all of creation in your hands?"

"I am to be its master," Lucius crooned, hands curling into fists. He ignored the broken fingernails digging into his palm. "I am to be the Dark Lord and master of all I survey, ruler over the Wizarding World. All Muggleborn will be cast out, Muggle lovers cast out. Death to mine enemies, and a world for me to rule."

"This is not a world I wish for," Ginny intoned.

"I can't believe I ever wanted your approval," Draco said in disgust. "I can't believe I thought you were worth anything."

_No, that wasn't right. That's not it. He worships me, he adores me._ Her. _That Muggle loving bitch had turned him from me..._

Lucius lunged toward Ginny, hands extended. Harry and the Auror by his side ran forward, wands extended, shouting. A last warning, by the book, protocols followed to the letter. They assumed he was a threat, that Ginny would be harmed or even killed. Even Harry never stopped to think that perhaps Ginny wasn't as helpless as she looked, and he _knew_ what she had become in her missing time.

A flash fire started, spreading out to cover the whole of Hogwarts. Its heat was intense, its light blinding. Harry shut his eyes against it and put his left arm over his face in protection, his wand arm still out and ready to fire if need be. He knew Maxim Henry, the Auror behind him, was doing the same.

He wondered if Maxim could hear the voice in his head, too.

_One must not be afraid to force things. Someone has to take the initiative and begin the cleansing process. We have to believe we can do this. We have to believe we can change things. What must be done must be done._

When the light cleared, the field was empty. There was no sign that Hogwarts had ever been there. It was grassy, lush with wild flowers and the occasional shrub.

There was no sign of Ginny, Draco or Lucius.

Harry's wand arm fell to his side as he looked at Maxim. "This can't be good."

"We'll find Lovegood, then. She might be able to scry something," Maxim offered.

Remembering finally what Ginny had said – a Fire Goddess? Whatever was a Fire Goddess? – Harry shook his head. "No. We won't be able to find them unless they want us to. And right now, I really think they don't want us to."

Maxim looked around the empty field where Hogwarts used to be. "So where did they go?"

Harry's shoulders slumped, defeated. "I don't know."

***

 

In one reality, there was nothing left after the evil was burnt away. Draco would have had to return to Narcissa with Lucius' signet ring, and she would have collapsed to the ground in tears and wails. She would have been left mute and still, barely able to care for herself. It would take perhaps a year or two before she succumbed and died as well.

"Let's avoid this, shall we?" Ginny asked Draco. They were standing in the heart of the power seat deep beneath what used to be Hogwarts. It was the center of her power of creation and uncreation, the lock to her key.

"I don't think we can," Draco murmured. "I don't know if there's anything left to save."

_He deserves something wonderful, he's worked so hard to try and make things right, he's tried to do right by all of us,_ Narcissa had thought. She had believed it, she had hoped that he was capable of change.

"Your mother needs him," Ginny murmured softly.

"I don't know if he's even worth it," Draco replied honestly. "I think any semblance of goodness in him is lost. If there had been anything, he wouldn't have defiled you."

"She needs something," Ginny replied. "I wouldn't want to give her only a signet ring and broken dreams. It will shatter whatever's left of her."

As much as he had come to despise his father, he still loved his mother very much. Draco sighed and looked on the unconscious form of his father. "I'm going to have to do something drastic, aren't I?" he asked with a sigh. He looked up at Ginny. "And it's probably going to have to be something nasty and disgusting."

"Why do you say that?"

"It's going to have to be like a rebirth, isn't it? And Mum always said that birthing was such a dirty and nasty and painful process. It's the real reason why I'm an only child. She said that as much as she loved my father, she would never go through something like that again. She thought it was rather degrading."

Ginny shook her head. "It's one of the few mysteries we have left, Draco. It's something wonderful to behold. Creation is always such a fragile yet powerful thing. Human bodies are full of disgusting things, true, but they're capable of such potential. Every soul born is the creation of a new chance, a new universe of possibilities."

He held her hand in a tight grip. "You think even he'd capable of that?"

"It will take work. It won't be easy."

Draco sighed. "What do I have to do?"

***

 

Narcissa sat in her room by the window, looking over the expanse of Malfoy Manor's manicured lawns. The storm that had been threatening still hadn't moved yet. Her family was still in danger, still subject to the whims of the Fire Goddess. She was as fickle as her element, but capable of such generosity and warmth.

_I'm waiting for that light to shine through. I'm waiting to see the love you are capable of,_ Narcissa thought, not sure who she was referring to. It could easily refer to Lucius or the Fire Goddess. &lt;/i&gt;I'm waiting for you.&lt;/i&gt;

 

She closed her eyes. _Please don't destroy my family. Please._

As much as she knew that Lucius had fallen from his initial purpose, there was still such potential in him. There was still the possibility that he could return to what he could have been. It wasn't too late, surely it wasn't. _My dagus kept him true,_ Narcissa thought, hoping she had been able to help him.

Right now, it was all up to the Fire Goddess.

Blinky returned to Narcissa's side with a faint "pop." She bounced around on the balls of both feet, a dishtowel pinned tightly around her. "Mistress!"

"Yes, Blinky?"

"The Master... He had been to Hogwarts, breaking stones and looking for something. He didn't look like himself at all, Mistress," Blinky added, wringing her hands painfully. "He didn't look altogether clean, and he didn't notice me there at all. And then the Little Master came, with the girl that had been here."

"The Fire Goddess," Narcissa murmured.

"Others were there, the great Harry Potter and another. I didn't like the look of that one, not the kind of man who would have been here for balls, Mistress. But he was quiet and didn't say anything about the Master or the Little Master. But then there was a fire, and the Master, Little Master and Fire Goddess were gone."

Narcissa's hands were tight fists in her lap. "Thank you, Blinky."

Blinky popped out of sight after bowing. Narcissa turned back to the window, tears sliding down her face. Now it really was up to the Fire Goddess, and she knew that Lucius would be found wanting. He wasn't a good soul yet, having been too far away from her influence. Everything would fall apart now.

Narcissa began to cry.

***

 

"What will you do, if you remake the world?" Draco asked with a worried tone. He had watched Ginny stare at Lucius with a frown for the past ten minutes.

She looked up abruptly, not aware that she had been lost in her own thoughts. She gave him a faint smile. "You know... it's not the deciding a thing that's difficult. It's how to do what it is that you've decided to do."

"And that means?" he prompted.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line. "We can't return him in this kind of condition. There's hardly anything of him left. Your mother would still be upset." She stared down at Lucius, who was thin and spindly, hardly anything more than hollowed-out bones and parchment thin skin stretched over them.

"We haven't anything left to give him without losing ourselves," Draco replied, exhausted. "I don't know what else to do. And there's still a little matter of the world itself. Are you remaking it or not? And if you do, what are you going to do with it?"

Ginny looked up at Draco sadly. "I don't know."

"I thought you had a plan?"

"So did I."

"So now what?"

Ginny dug down deep within herself, and found the burnt-out remnants of wax she had forgotten about earlier. "Wait... I remember this..." Pulling the wax out of her chest with alarming alacrity, Ginny stared at it. "It's your mother's dagus."

"Do you think we can do something with it? Maybe flesh him out a bit again?"

"I think we can."

"And the world? Got a bit of something for that?" Draco touched her cheek. "Or maybe we just leave it be. Maybe it's not so bad the way it is. Just clear out a little bit of space for us to begin all over again, this time knowing what happened."

"I'd like my brothers back the way they were," Ginny murmured. "And all the missing souls to be found so their families can have peace."

"Well, aren't you the Fire Goddess, then? Can't you make it happen?"

Laughing, Ginny looked up. "You know, I've forgotten I was in all this work."

He smiled and traced her lip with his thumb. "Good thing I'm here, then."

"Yes, it is a good thing."

***

 

"Potter, I think you're going to want to see this."

Harry rushed from his desk and out into the hallway leading to the lobby of the Auror office building. In the lobby, he could clearly see everyone that had been on the missing persons roster that they had been unable to find. Although it was clearly impossible, every single person looked hale and whole, as if nothing had happened. There were the Weasley twins, looking around with a puzzled expression. Though only one had been missing, both were standing there as if the missing time had never happened. "Harry!" one of them said, seeing him. The other looked up and waved. "Oy, over here, mate!"

Stunned, he walked over to them. "What's happened?"

"Well, you know, I don't rightly know," George replied.

"I can't remember a blasted thing after we got into the Forbidden Forest with Ginny," Fred added. He looked around. "Hey, you've seen Ginny?"

"I don't know where she is," Harry said with a shake of his head. "But I think I know where to find her. Don't you worry. We're going to get this all straightened out."

The twins smiled at him as he went back to his office. From there, he Apparated back to Hogwarts. Or rather, the field where it used to be.

***

 

"You know, it's a good little world," Ginny murmured. "For all the bad in it, there's lots of good things in it, too."

"I rather think so," Draco replied, looking around the field. "Looks to be a good and sunny day today. That's a nice touch."

"I thought it might be nice to have good things happening on a good day." Ginny sat down on the grass of the field and sighed. "They won't remember, though. They'll just know they were missing, but they won't remember a thing."

"That's a sight better than being dead, I should think," Draco said as he sat down. "I would think being dead would be rather upsetting."

Ginny laughed, and let him pull her into an embrace. "I think your mother will be happy."

"He won't be the same," Draco warned. "And he might change back."

"I'll deal with it then."

"All right. If you're sure."

They saw Harry running toward them, right on schedule. "Here comes the hero."

"Not my hero," Ginny replied, turning toward him. His face softened, and they kissed. "There's another good thing this world produced."

"What's that?" Draco asked, brow crinkling in thought.

Ginny playfully traced a line down his nose. "You."

His face relaxed and he grinned at her. "But of course. I'm perfect. I'm a Malfoy." They kissed again, soft and sweet. "It's going to be all right, I think," Draco said softly. "We'll figure this thing out and we'll be all right."

"What thing?"

"Us. If you want it as it is or something more official."

"Oh, there's time enough for that," Ginny murmured before leaning in for another kiss.

Harry ran up to them. "Ginny! What's happened?"

"I've fixed everything," Ginny replied with a small smile. "It's all better now. And I really didn't have to destroy too much of it to fix it."

He blinked. "Now what?"

"Now you reunite those families and go on to Luna. And everything goes on like before." Ginny shrugged negligently. "I've got no call to go about interfering. I like the world the way it is, Harry, and I won't muck about with it."

"And what about you?" he asked, slightly hurt and slightly confused.

She gave him a blindingly beautiful smile. "I'm all right, Harry. I've got Draco and I'm happy with that. I'll be visiting Mum and Dad soon enough. Then they'll know, too. It's all right. I'm all right and we're all going to be okay."

He didn't seem convinced, but he trusted her. He nodded at her, continuing to ignore Draco. He Apparated back to the office without a backward glance.

Draco lay back over the grass. "That wanker. I'm glad he's gone."

Ginny lay down over him, looking up at the clear sky overhead. "I meant what I said before, about you being with me. I like what we have together."

Draco found it hard to swallow suddenly, but he managed. "Me, too. I'm glad I found you."

They looked up at the perfect spring sky, bodies wound together peacefully. There would be time enough to meet each others' families, to put on game faces and pretend that nothing had happened that was out of the ordinary. There was time enough to sort out the legalities of sheltering the new Lucius Malfoy at the Manor. For now, it was enough to be there together, to know that they were perfectly in sync for that moment, and the horrible crisis that could have been was averted.

"I love you," Ginny murmured, his heart under her ear. It beat steadily.

"I love you, too," Draco murmured, stroking her hair. "Whatever you are now, whatever I am now, I love you."

And for now, that was more than enough.

 

The End


End file.
